A Colorado Naked Mole Rat in the Schnee Mansion
by daccu65
Summary: Sequel to 'To Find Your Way Home'. The battle of Mistral is over, Weiss, Yang and Ron are on their way to Atlas. General Ironwood needs new transducers, Yang needs her arm repaired, Weiss and Ron need to answer Whitley's innuendo...but is Atlas ready to deal with Rufus?
1. Chapter 1

_Dear potential reader:_

 _Please know that the characters appearing in this tale are not mine. Those from RWBY belong to Roosterteeth while those from Kim Possible belong to the mouse-eared empire. This story is not intended to generate profit and was written solely for the enjoyment of writing and hopefully, your enjoyment in reading. This is a sequel to my earlier work, "To Find Your Way Home." With the legalities taken care of, please enjoy..._

* * *

"So, what's wrong with you?" Yang demanded of Ron, as the shoreline to Solitas faded into view ahead of them. "You were all mopey when you first came up here, then you perked up a little, and now you're all quiet and brooding again."

Weiss was about to snap at her friend to give her other friend some slack, but realized that Ron was just going to have to start dealing with things without her help. Besides, Yang wasn't being mean; just showing concern in her typical, blunt manner.

"Just thinking," Ron mumbled.

"And you can't do it and talk at the same time?"

"You can't, either," Ron pointed out. "You've just convinced yourself that you can."

For just a moment, Yang's eyes flashed red and Weiss dropped a hand to her rapier. An airship in flight was a bad place to have a brawl between two heavy-hitters like Yang and Ron; but then the blonde girl's eyes returned to their normal lilac and a she broke out into a huge smile.

"Nice shot," she complimented the young man. "But what has you thinking so much that you can't join the conversation?"

"I was just thinking about all of the things that I don't know about this world," he answered. "Things that are so obvious to you that you don't think about them, but have me completely lost."

"Like what?" Weiss asked.

"Like how people here get their last names," Ron pointed out. "Yang has her father's last name, Ruby has her mother's. With Weiss, all three siblings and the husband have taken the mother's last name but with Jaune, he, his sisters and his mother all have their father's...just like Blake's family."

"Different cultures," Weiss shrugged. "Atlas used to be a very regimented society."

" _Used_ to be?" Yang snorted.

"We're still regimented," Weiss sniffed at her. "But nowhere near as bad as we used to be. Anyway, back during the time of the Great War, every person had a rank. It didn't matter if you were a civilian, government employee, or a soldier, you had an official rank. The custom was that when two people married, the lower ranking person took the higher ranking person's last name. The children also took this name. Our marriage traditions are a throwback. Although there aren't any official ranks for families, the upper classes maintain them on an informal basis. Since the Schnee Family is very prestigious, my father took the Schnee name."

"In Vale, we aren't big on marriages," Yang told them. "People get together, have kids, and are expected to raise them. Daughters get the mother's name and sons get the father's."

"But you have your father's name," Ron pointed out.

"My mother abandoned me," there was a slight strain to Yang's voice, but it was clear that she had made progress in coming to grips with the situation. "By Vale custom, she forfeited the right to pass on her name, so I'm a Xiao Long and proud of it."

"But, isn't Jaune from Vale?" Ron asked her.

"He's not from Vale City," Yang told him. "But from a town that's still in the kingdom. They have some slightly different customs in some of these towns."

"So that explains why all of his family took his father's name?"

"That, and the man's a huntsman," Yang told her. "That's one of the customs a lot of Remnant has, when a huntsman or huntress marries someone who isn't a hunter, their name gets passed on."

"I need you three to head back to the passenger compartment," the pilot told the three. "We're coming into our final approach."

"Will there be an ambulance standing by?" Weiss asked him.

"We've made the arrangements," he replied. "Please buckle in, it's our policy."

"That was kind of cool," Yang remarked, as they followed the crew's instructions. "I didn't realize that discussing social customs could make the time go by."

"Amazing," Weiss quipped. "Yang actually finds sharing knowledge...other than how to deliver blows and win fights...interesting."

"Hey!" Yang growled, but her lilac eyes betrayed that she wasn't really angry. "Just because I don't often go for deep thoughts, doesn't mean that I can't."

The three young people snickered at the exchange as they buckled in. The very efficient air traffic control system over Atlas had been tipped off that the Schnee Heiress was bringing in very important cargo, so they were quickly on the ground.

"General Ironwood?" Weiss addressed the dozing man. "We're in Atlas. Paramedics are coming in to take you to the Academy Medical Center. If you want, we'll ride with you."

"I don't need the emotional support," he murmured back to her.

"But you're vulnerable," Weiss countered. "If someone; some enemy of Atlas, were to learn of this trip, they could try to attack you. We'll stay with you until you're safely on academy grounds."

"It's embarrassing to admit that I need such protection," Ironwood sighed. A pair of Atlas medics showed up and started to shift the general to a gurney.

"No way!" Weiss looked to see Yang arguing with another medic.

"Miss, it's procedure," the man argued with the blonde.

"I don't care!" She snapped back. "I do _not_ need a gurney. In fact, I'm not even going to a medical center until my arm has been repaired!"

"But we can't take your arm without the rest of you," the medic protested. "It's procedure. And since you're a patient that's missing a limb, you have to be on a gurney."

"Why?"

"It's procedure."

"Procedure's wrong!" Yang snapped at him. Weiss left the general's side and sought to diffuse the situation.

"Look at me!" Yang continued to berate the hapless medic. Making sure that there was clear space behind her, she executed a backwards handspring. "Can someone who needs a gurney do this?"

"Miss, it's..."

"Procedure," Weiss interrupted. "Yang, you've never been to Atlas before. We look at procedure the way some villagers look at religion. Once it's in writing, you must obey."

The medic looked distinctly insulted by that. Strangely, General Ironwood, who had overheard, smirked.

"I don't care," Yang growled. "I'm not getting on a gurney! I'm perfectly capable of walking!"

Weiss sighed. Yang had been the big sister of Team RWBY, always ready to stand up for the other members. Unfortunately, she was also the most enthusiastic and right now that enthusiasm, backed up by her bruised dignity and instinct to defend her own pride, meant trouble. While Weiss had been the team's intellectual, Blake had been the most practical. Right now, Weiss was being forced into trying to be the reasonable one.

"Do you want this man to lose his job, just because of you?" Weiss asked.

"No..." Yang appeared a little less stubborn.

"Well, he could get fired if he doesn't follow his instructions," Weiss exaggerated just a little. "But maybe we can find a compromise." She looked at the medic. "Does your procedure say that the patient must be brought in on a gurney? Is there another alternative?"

"Wheelchair," the man answered. "She can be conveyed by a wheelchair or gurney. When I was informed that she was missing an arm, I assumed that she would need a gurney."

"Does the procedure actually say that she has to be on the form of conveyance?" Weiss pressed.

Confused, the medic pulled out his scroll and checked. "No," he admitted. "Just conveyed via either one."

"Fine!" Weiss declared. "We'll put the arm on the gurney and let her push it into the medical facility. As long as Yang shows up via the gurney, she's meeting your procedure."

"That's ridiculous!" Both Yang and the medic told her. The two gave each other an odd look, surprised to be agreeing.

"But it meets procedure," Weiss rolled her eyes. "It appears that the medical establishment hasn't come to grips with detached cybernetic arms."

"I'll include that in my report," the medic told her. Then, with a smirk, he added, "that's also procedure."

As the general was wheeled out of the airship, Yang pulled her arm out of her bag and placed it gently on the rolling bed. She then rolled her eyes as the medic carefully strapped the disconnected appendage down, explaining that this was also procedure. Finally, with Yang helping to push the cart, they were free to leave the aircraft and load onto the ambulance.

The ambulance ride was also awkward. In the end, Weiss accompanied General Ironwood in the back, along with one attendant and Yang's arm. Yang and Ron climbed into the front with the other attendant. As much as the general tried to remain stoic, he couldn't help but smirk every time he looked to the other bed and saw the arm strapped in. Weiss could only roll her eyes, wondering at the levels of absurdity to which bureaucratic nonsense, combined with unreasoning stubbornness, could reach. Fortunately, when they reached the Academy Medical Center, they encountered a doctor who was able to buck procedure without too much risk to his career.

"Ah, Miss Schnee," he noted. "Please rest assured that we will take excellent care of the general and your friends."

"Friends?" Yang asked, as a team showed up to hustle General Ironwood off to begin his treatment.

"Yes," Weiss told her. "First of all, those transducers are custom made for every person. While the one from your arm served to keep General Ironwood alive, it may not work with you again."

"It was used for a different purpose, with a different set of brain waves," the doctor informed the blonde. "We'll need to run some tests on you, so that we can create one. This one should be even more responsive to your commands."

"Okay," she shrugged. "When do we start?"

"We have a diagnostics chamber standing by at this moment."

Another man picked up her arm and gestured for her to follow. After sharing a nod with Weiss, she accompanied the man.

"And as for you and Rufus," Weiss now addressed Ron. "Full medical examinations."

"But I've already been through them!" Ron protested.

"That was before your aura-inflicted injuries," Weiss pointed out. "While the doctors back at Mistral are good, I'd prefer it if you saw one here in Atlas. You're special to me."

Ron's eyes flew wide.

"Of course," he nodded.

"That, and I need the evidence to present to my board of directors, and during a press conference." Weiss admitted. "We need to prove that you're not a robot, and that you're from someplace else. The best way to take care of this is another, in depth medical check up. Since you and Rufus like to stick together, I have arranged for a veterinarian to be in the examination room, to do a checkup on Rufus.

"Vet...ugh!" The naked rat squeaked from Ron's shoulder.

"Doctors aren't much better," Ron answered.

"But it's necessary!" Weiss insisted. "Do you want people to think you're a robot?"

"All because your brother made some suggestions?" Ron asked her. "That's not right!"

"It isn't," Weiss agreed. "But ridiculous accusations sometimes require ridiculous measures to counter; but don't worry, we'll come up with a way to get even with him. Maybe you can even use some Earth-style revenge that he won't expect."

For a moment, a look of fiendish glee passed over Ron's face, followed by an expression of terror.

"What is it?" Weiss demanded.

"Something I can do," Ron grumbled. "I never wanted to bring this horror to an unsuspecting planet, but I may have to."

"What horror?"

"Something that got locked into my mind," Ron told her, his face going pale. "Something that I cannot forget, no matter how much I want to."

"Is it worse than a bomb that can destroy a city in the blink of and eye?" Weiss gasped. "Worse than weapons that can punch through aura?"

"It's debatable," Ron sighed. "I survived it...barely."

"Err...perhaps we should start," one of the doctors interrupted his memories.

Flinching, and with a hard look at Weiss, Ron set Rufus on one shoulder and followed the staff members to yet another room. Left alone for the moment, Weiss found an empty waiting room and started to work on her scroll. She contacted every member of the Schnee Dust Company Board of Directors, informing them that there would be a meeting the following morning. Afterwards, she called her mother.

Although the older Schnee was a little disappointed that her daughter hadn't called right away, she was somewhat mollified by the fact that Weiss had taken care of her other details first, freeing her up to spend more time in conversation. Einsam Schnee was overjoyed to hear that her younger daughter was back in Atlas, and would be bringing Ron and a member of Team RWBY to stay in the mansion for at least a couple of weeks. Weiss reminded herself that her mother was very lonely; and would be once again after she dealt with the latest crisis and returned to Beacon.

Weiss requested that her mother arrange for Whitley to return home as soon as possible, then Yang showed up, forcing the heiress to bid her mother a reluctant goodbye. She assured the older woman that the three, with a pet, would be in the mansion yet that night before hanging up.

"Oh, you will be staying with me tonight," Weiss informed the taller girl.

"I was kind of hoping for that," Yang admitted. "I'm wondering about your mansion, since you seemed to like hanging at my cabin so much."

"It was the company," Weiss admitted. "I'm only beginning to realize how much the people in a house can either turn it into a home, or a prison."

"Hey, those are some pretty deep thoughts, and things are going to get serious enough in the next few days," Yang protested. "Let's try to keep it light."

"Sure," Weiss nodded. "How did the exam go?"

"I can't really tell," Yang admitted. "They used some tools that I didn't recognize to take some readings that I really didn't understand. They said that they had to fabricate new transducers, and that would take a few days."

"So, no pain with the examination?"

"Nope," Yang grinned. "They didn't even mess with my hair, so there wasn't any pain for them, either. So when do I get to see this mansion of yours?"

"As soon as Ron gets out of his exam," Weiss told her. "And we get an update on General Ironwood."

She had no more mentioned the Earth man when he appeared, a scowl on his face and followed by a surprisingly sheepish looking doctor. Rufus rode on Ron's shoulder, patting the side of his head in a conciliatory, supportive manner.

"I assure you, all of this was part of the complete, medical exam that Miss Schnee requested," the doctor was explaining.

"I don't believe you had to do _**that**_ to prove I wasn't a robot," the blonde grumbled back.

"But we had to be objective," the doctor protested. "The only way to prove that you aren't mechanical, and be unbiased about it, was to perform a general examination! If we only performed the scans, someone could have insisted that your structure was made of carbon fiber, and not metal. Believe me, there was no vindictiveness to this, it was strictly..."

"Procedure," Ron growled. "I'm starting to see Yang's point of view."

"Straight up!" Yang agreed with him.

"At any rate, it's over," the doctor told the small group. "You are all free to go. The lab results will be finished by tomorrow morning."

"And what will they tell us?" Weiss asked him.

"I can't tell you before they are finished," the doctor told her. "That would go..."

"Against procedure," Weiss sighed. "Very well, I'll contact Kline. By the time he gets here, we should have a chance to check on General Ironwood."

Weiss was disappointed in this, as the medical personnel refused to allow her to see the headmaster. She wasn't related to him, nor was she one of his subordinates, in either the military or the academy. Even her family name failed to force a concession. Because she couldn't come up with a plausible reason why she needed to see him, she wasn't allowed to see him. It was procedure.

However, one staff member violated procedure just a little and informed her that the general was in no immediate danger, but it might take a couple of days to get replacement transducers prepared to handle basic motor functions, and perhaps weeks before such devices capable of supporting the movements of a trained hunstman, could be fabricated and calibrated to take care of all of his mechanical functions. As she led her two friends out of the hospital, Weiss realized that the staffer had probably bent procedure as much to get rid of her as to be kindly. She filed this little snippet in the back of her mind, considering that sometimes it was more effective to be irritating than proper.

Kline was, as always, supremely efficient. He was waiting for the trio...four if you counted Rufus...with one of the family's best vehicles when they emerged from the building. Weiss couldn't help but give the man a grateful hug.

"How has mother been doing?" She asked him, as he helped load their personal baggage into the trunk.

"She has been frightfully lonely, and anxious," Kline told her. "However, she has kept away from the bottle. She took a greater interest in the running of the company, but I daresay that she doesn't have the determination that you do."

"Some might call it stubbornness," Yang commented, as the three young people loaded themselves into the vehicle.

"Hush!" Weiss ordered.

"In more private moments, she lamented the fact that she had just reunited with her youngest daughter in time for her family to be sundered again," Kline continued. "However, she has started to establish some contacts among the peer families, inviting such over for a spot of tea and conversation, and accepting similar invitations."

"Good," Weiss nodded. "I don't want her to be alone."

"She will be overjoyed to see you safely back home," Kline informed her, as he slid behind the wheel. "And is delighted to have some company. She says that things were much livelier when Master Stoppable was present."

"If she thinks I livened the place up, wait until she meets Yang!" Ron told him.

"Hey!" Yang elbowed him in the ribs.

"Try to keep things under control for today," Weiss begged the two blondes. "Mother deserves a little peace and quiet."

"If I understand the situation, she's had too much peace and quiet," Yang countered. "But, if you think I'm too much for her to handle, I'll go easy on her."

"Thank you," however, Weiss didn't fully trust her friend to keep under control. "By the way, Ron, what bothered you so much about the check-up?"

Ron just mumbled into his hand.

"Okay, with your aura-contusions, the blood work wouldn't have been pleasant," Weiss tried to commiserate with him.

Ron mumbled a little more.

"Maybe it was the reflex checks," Yang suggested. "I hate it when they hit my knee and make me kick."

Ron mumbled some more.

"Was it the lights in your eyes?" Weiss asked. "Or the things they stick in your ears?"

"Maybe it was the hearing check," Yang suggested. "Or the tongue depressor tasted bad."

"I'm not saying," Ron finally snapped at the two of them. "I just never thought that anyone under forty would have to go through _**that**_ in a doctor's office."

Kline promptly flinched while Yang tittered. Weiss, whose relationship with her father was much more distant than Yang's, didn't understand the reference but Ron didn't appear to feel like elaborating further. Fortunately for Weiss, it was only minutes later that they pulled onto the estate to find her mother waiting for them at the driveway.

Much like the meeting back in Haven, when Weiss was the only one who noted that Headmaster Lionheart wasn't at the head of the table, neither of her friends found her mother's actions to be unusual. They didn't understand the central role that propriety, that _procedure_ , played in the lives of upper-class Atlesians. Her mother should have waited in her study, in the garden, or several other places that would generate the appearance of the older woman calmly awaiting the younger to present herself. The fact that she wasn't willing to wait to see her younger daughter spoke volumes of her concern.

The fact that Weiss couldn't care less about the potential scandal said something profound about how much she had grown.

Weiss didn't wait for Kline to let her out...she didn't even wait for the vehicle to come to a complete stop. As soon as the car slowed enough to be marginally safe, she jumped out and rushed to hug her mother. Despite the fact that her mother was taller than her, Weiss was struck by how frail she seemed to be.

"I'm so happy to have you back," Einsam whispered onto the top of her head. "The news was filled with...terrible things, and then Whitley..."

"We'll deal with him soon enough," Weiss whispered back. "But for right now, it's good to be back."

"Oh, how silly of me," Einsam reluctantly disengaged herself from her daughter and considered the two other young people, who were standing rather awkwardly while observing the reunion. "You must be Yang Xiao Long," Einsam addressed Yang. "Weiss has told me a great deal about you."

"Hey, don't believe everything she said!" Yang smiled broadly. "We had our issues when we first met."

"I have no doubt," Einsam smiled at the tall young woman. "She claims that you were always very protective of your teammates. I appreciate that you sought to protect her."

"Well...I _am_ a big sister," Yang actually blushed. "It sort of goes with the territory."

"As for you, Mr. Stoppable," Einsam approached the young man and pulled him into a hug. "Thank you so much for bringing my daughter back to me."

"We're teammates," Ron told her, awkwardly returning her embrace. "We have each other's backs."

"So I understand," Einsam released him. "But I appreciate it, nonetheless. Now, the three of you are probably tired and hungry. Why don't we see to that, right now?"

Einsam's eyes widened when Rufus burst from Ron's pocket, scrambled up to perch on his shoulder, rubbed his belly and declared, "food!"

"Ah, this must be Rufus," the elder Schnee managed to maintain her composure. "I've also heard about you."

To Weiss' bemusement, Rufus traced a reasonably graceful bow while squeaking something that sounded like 'thank you'. Her mother was charmed.

"I'm sure that you and Unscharf will get along famously," Einsam Schnee assured the hairless rodent. "But all of you must be tired and famished after traveling all the way from Mistral and delivering the General to the medical center. Kline will see you to your rooms, then we'll meet in the dining room to talk over a meal."

"Of course," Weiss assured her mother, who was capable of more formality now that she had seen her daughter alive and well. "If Ronald will be in his previous suite, there's only Yang to settle in."

"I've taken the liberty of placing her in Winter's former quarters," Einsam replied. "Be a dear and assist Kline."

"My pleasure."

"Hey! Nobody's hauling my bag for me!" Yang snapped, grabbing the aforementioned backpack from the scandalized servant. "I've had enough of people thinking I need a wheelchair...or that I can't carry my own luggage!"

"Please humor her," Weiss instructed Kline. "She's had a hard collision with bureaucratic procedure, and she needs to let off some steam."

* * *

Yang had come to the conclusion that she was far from home, figuratively as well as literally. She had been raised in the economic middle class; sure, they lived in a cabin that her father had built himself, but it was a very large and luxurious cabin...for Patch. The Schnee Family Mansion was on an entire different level, as well as on a different continent. The suite she was currently standing in was roughly the square footage of the first floor of her home and she didn't know what to do. When you plan on crossing Anima on a motorcycle, you pack light, so it only took her about two minutes to unpack and another one to check out the space that would be her home for however long it took for her arm to be repaired.

She didn't know where the dining room was, nor did she know if her hostess would expect her to dress up a little for the meal. Of course, that wasn't really a consideration as she didn't have anything anywhere near formal with her. While she usually wouldn't let it bother her; she was who she was and wasn't about to change for anyone, she didn't want to put Weiss in an awkward situation with her mother. Fortunately, her friend showed up quickly, rescuing her from the twin conundrums of wondering what to wear for dinner and not knowing where to go for the meal.

"I've sort of forced my mother to open her eyes a little," Weiss assured her. "By having Ron, Flynt and Neon in the area, she's started to realize that not everyone lives the upper class lifestyle...and that not everyone wants to. What you're wearing now will be fine, but get ready to have a tailor take your measurements tomorrow, mother likes dressing people up."

"Did Flynt and Neon get the tailor treatment?" Yang asked, falling into step next to her shorter friend.

"No, but Ron did," Weiss rolled her eyes a little. "Mother's taken a liking to him and likes him to dress well."

"Oh?" Yang couldn't hide her smirk. "Is it because she thinks he's cute, or because the two of you look good together?"

"Yang! I have enough of with mother trying to push me towards him! Don't you start, as well!"

"Why should I?" Yang continued to smirk. "The two of you seem to be doing it, yourselves." The mocking expression left her face as she continued, "he told me about your...almost moment...back in Mistral. He seemed to feel guilty about it."

"He shouldn't," Weiss sighed. "It was as much my idea as his but...I'm kind of glad that we were interrupted."

"Why?" Yang showed honest curiosity. "If the two of you feel that way about each other..."

"It's...complicated," Weiss told her. "And Whitley's little stunt isn't helping matters. There's enough attention on me the way it is, and having Ron admit that he's from outside Remnant isn't going to make things any easier. If the word got out that we were...something more than friends...things could get even more difficult."

"Since when do you worry about what people think about you?" Yang asked her. "You've always been about making your own life."

"Since I realized how much influence the Schnee Dust Company has over Atlas," Weiss told her. "And since I realized how much harm it can do if the wrong person is running it."

That seemed to dampen Yang's mood a little. However, it didn't take long for her sense of humor to reassert itself.

"Were you exactly thinking that way when you and Ron nearly..."

"Yang!" Weiss snapped at her friend. "This isn't the place to bring it up!"

"Actually, there could be some interesting things to be learned from this," Yang smirked. "I thought you were all about academics and exploring new frontiers!"

"Yang..."

"I mean, did you get to the point of learning if he's equipped the way he needs to be?" Yang tried, unsuccessfully, to keep the smile off her face.

Weiss merely glared at her.

"Hey, as far as we know, gender body shapes could be reversed on Earth," the blonde snorted. "As well as the terms 'girl' and 'boy'. For all we know, he's the female of the species...or maybe you know better." Yang smiled widely. "Did you get to the point where you can tell me for sure that he's...anatomically compatible?"

Weiss continued to glare.

"Oh, didn't even get to the doubles round?" She shook her head in mock sympathy. "Well, was the behavior at least familiar? He didn't do anything wild, like handstands or something like that, did he?"

"That's about enough of this!" Weiss snapped at her friend.

"But seriously," Yang protested, although her expression was anything but serious. "Normal...mating habits...could be very different on Earth. There's a lot of variety when it comes down to the deed, so why should the _**normal**_ method be the same between the two worlds?"

"That's actually interesting," Weiss admitted. "Almost as interesting as it is embarrassing to talk about when we're just about to walk into the dining room, where my mother is waiting."

Yang took the hint and shut her mouth...but didn't remove her smirk, as she followed her friend through a door and into the dining room. Yang immediately noted that the table, which dominated the room, could easily seat a dozen people. Einsam sat at the head of the table, with Ron at her left side. To Yang's amusement, Rufus sat on the table to Ron's left.

"I'll sit next to my mother," Weiss whispered to her friend. "You sit next to me."

"Right," Yang nodded, wondering if manners would take all of the enjoyment out of the meal. Einsam gave Ron a questioning look then, with the look of someone who had almost forgot something, the young man sprang to his feet.

Yep, it was looking like the room had a serious case of the manners.

"Weiss, and Yang," Einsam greeted them, with a pleasant voice. "So good of you to make it. Young Mr. Stoppable here is a young man, and could use some refueling."

"He's not the only one," Yang quipped, deciding to test just how formal the setting was going to be.

"That's good to hear," Einsam smiled at her newest guest. "It has been far too long since I've had three young people to dine with."

Yang smiled back, then had another idea. She acted like she was sitting then, as Ron settled towards his chair, she sprang back to her feet. Ron scrambled to change directions, managing to get back to his feet with only moderate stumbling.

"Gotcha!" She smirked at the boy. Weiss looked horrified while Einsam struggled to restrain a laugh.

"I must remember that," the older woman giggled at Yang. With a self-satisfied smirk, Yang took her seat for real, winking first at Ron, who waited until she was fully seated before sitting, and then at Weiss, who was still looking slightly shocked.

Fortunately for Weiss' nerves, Kline appeared with a trolley and served a salad course as well as a choice of beverages. While the heiress was still a little jumpy for her friend, Yang proved to be graceful and reasonably polite while handling her silverware, even with only her left hand. Kline proved to be a truly capable butler, in that he didn't bat an eye while serving a naked mole rat. Rufus took one look at the silverware, rolled his eyes, and proceeded to eat in a manner befitting a rodent.

"Please don't let me make you uneasy," Einsam addressed Yang. "I wished to have a meal with my daughter and her friends. The goal is to dine and get to know you, not to impress each other with our manners."

"Thanks," Yang replied. (Weiss was relieved that she swallowed her mouthful of food before speaking.) "I really appreciate you putting me up while my arm gets worked on."

"It's my pleasure," Einsam assured her. "In fact, you are doing me a favor. I was uneasy when Weiss chose to attend Beacon Academy; I had the usual prejudices against another kingdom and didn't like the idea of my daughter being so far away. However, I see now that she gained a great benefit far beyond combat training. She was forced out of the world she had known, to see others' point of view. She now sees the world as it is, not through the lens of the family wealth and privilege."

"Not only that, but she brought others to this mansion," Einsam continued. "After knocking me out of my self-pitying bout of alcoholism, she forced my eyes open, at least a little bit. I enjoyed speaking with Ron, Flynt and Neon. I look forward to speaking with you, and gaining an ever wider perspective on the world. Now, my own son has raised allegations that Mr. Stoppable is really a robot. Weiss, Mr. Stoppable, I would like you to answer the allegations to me, so that I'm not caught by surprise again."

Ron and Weiss shared an uncomfortable glance.

"If you can't say..." Einsam began.

"No!" Weiss interrupted. "You're my mother! This is your house! You have the right to know!" She took a deep breath, exchanged a nod with Ron, then plunged into the story. "Ron's not a robot, he's from a different world..."

Einsam looked on, somewhat dumbfounded and somewhat amused, as Weiss explained Ron's situation to her. The younger Schnee also explained about the 'nuke' that destroyed most of the Atlesian Airfleet, and their successful efforts to locate and destroy the other two. She then explained about the firearms that had also been shipped to Remnant. However, she left out Ron's semblance and the night when they nearly...

"So, you are a huntsman of sorts on your world," Einsam remarked to her guest, as Kline reappeared to clean up the salad plates and set out soup bowls and sandwiches.

"That's as good of a description as any," Ron told her. "Our societies are a lot different than Remnant's."

"I imagine so," she murmured in return. "So, what are we to do about this situation."

"I had Ron undergo yet another medical exam today," Weiss explained.

"A very, very thorough one," Ron interrupted.

"Tomorrow, I'll meet with the board of directors and discuss this," Weiss told her mother, with a glare at Ron. "I will also call a press conference. I'll be up front and honest, taking away Whitley's ammunition. After that, I'll deal with him."

"I will have the final say in how we deal with Whitley," Einsam firmly told her daughter. "However, I believe that we will be somewhat under siege here, once you hold your press conference. We must make preparations."

"Such as?" Weiss prompted, as the five continued to dine.

"For one thing, you will have our publicist with you when you discuss the matter with the board," Einsam told her. "She will be able to prepare a proper response to the numerous reporters who will want statements. I will also hire a couple of additional guards, so that the three of you do not need to chase the more aggressive reporters off of the property. Finally, I shall work with Kline to make sure that our foodstuffs and other consumables are well stocked before you make the public statement. Some out there may try to disguise themselves as delivery employees and attempt to gain access to our home."

"Whoa," Yang commented. "I thought Weiss was the smart one! That's some fast thinking."

"I've been Schnee for far longer than Weiss," Einsam offered the young woman a slight smile. "I know how to handle public scrutiny."

"Maybe we should let Dr. Physiker know about this," Ron suggested. "She might be able to make an official statement from the Academy."

"Perhaps that's for the best," Einsam agreed. "But could you entertain Miss Xiao Long for a time? The formal gardens are lovely in the evening and I haven't seen my daughter for too long."

"Of course," Ron got to his feet, followed by Yang. The two excused themselves, allowing the Schnee women to speak in private.

* * *

Once the two blondes left the dining room, Ron took a few minutes to send Dr. Physiker a text.

"Why don't you just call?" Yang asked him, while admiring some of the artwork to be found in the hallways.

"I don't want to disturb her if she's working," Ron told her, finishing his text.

"Working, at this time of night?"

"You've never been around science types, have you," he grinned. "When they start working, time doesn't really exist for them."

"But still, won't a call be quicker?"

"I don't want to disturb a scientist," he answered, now leading the way to the formal gardens. "Especially a physicist."

"Why a physicist?"

"If they jump during an experiment, things can make a boom...and I mean a very, very big boom."

Yang snorted a laugh and followed his lead, but took her time to take in the wealth on display. The sun was lowering to the west, casting long shadows over the estate's formal gardens, when Ron led Yang out to them.

"It's peaceful here," Yang commented. "At least for now. Come the day after tomorrow, that fence is going to be lined with reporters. Anyone here is going to have so many questions shouted at them that they won't be able to tell them apart."

"And when whomever is out here decides not to answer the same question a dozen times, the reporters will say that they're being evasive." Ron added.

"Are you sure you're not from Remnant?" Yang gave him a playful punch in the arm. "You sure sound like you know the drill."

"I guess sleaze reporters are the same everywhere," Ron shrugged. "And the Schnee family is going through this because Weiss was kind enough to take me in."

"Don't feel guilty about that," Yang told him. "You were with her to take out those two bombs, you saved her from that goliath in Kuchinashi. Any trouble the reporters cause them, you've already paid the family back a dozen times over...but it isn't about keeping score. She's my teammate and my friend, but it's pretty obvious that the two of you are good for each other."

Ron sighed slightly.

"Hey, no feeling guilty," in the growing darkness, Ron failed to catch Yang's momentary smirk. "The two of you are kind of sweet on each other, it's really nice."

Ron grimaced.

Hey, you've both told me about the almost moment," Yang pointed out. "And you both feel guilty about it. I don't understand why, there wasn't any harm done...and I don't think that any harm could have been done."

Ron just looked at her.

"Look, can I ask you a personal question?"

"Considering what I went through today," Ron mumbled. "And what I'm going to go through the day after tomorrow, I don't think you can ask anything too personal."

"Have you developed your receiving pouch yet?"

Ron looked at her with a completely confused expression.

"Look, I know it's personal, but we're teammates, so we should be able to discuss things like this." Yang paused, dramatically. "You're very fit, and I understand that fit guys develop it later than huskier guys. It's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"I'm don't have a clue what you're talking about," Ron admitted.

"Your receiving pouch," Yang rolled her eyes. "You know, what Weiss' ovipositor would have slid into if the two of you hadn't been interrupted."

"What!?"

"You have to be kidding me!" Yang shouted at him. "Don't you know where babies come from?"

"Of course!"

"So you know they come from your receiving pouch," she explained, with exaggerated patience. "After a girl deposits the egg there with her ovipositor. Maybe you have a different term on Earth."

"Wait a minute," Ron's face showed horrified realization. "You mean on Remnant, the men get pregnant?"

"You mean they don't on Earth?" Yang's jaw hung open in shock. "How does it work on Earth?"

"Man injects sperm into woman," Ron sounded almost stunned. "Sperm may or may not meet egg. If so, fertilized egg implants in the woman's uterus...nine months later, she gives birth."

"That's not the way it works here," Yang told him. "Woman injects egg into man's receiving pouch, where it's fertilized. Nine months later, baby emerges." She paused for a moment. "Maybe it _is_ just as well that you got interrupted; that would have turned awkward in a hurry."

"Uh...yeah," Ron looked almost sick. "I...think I'm going to have to have a word with Weiss about this."

"Wait until after she deals with the press," Yang suggested. "She has enough on her plate without learning that a guy she's getting sweet on isn't...compatible."

"Right," Ron agreed. "Um, have you seen what happened to Rufus?"

"No, but I'll help you look for him," Yang turned quickly, so Ron couldn't see the impish grin that she just couldn't keep from her face.

* * *

It hadn't been easy for Rufus to remain calm and polite during the meal. Certainly, the food was great and he was hungry, but the conversation about political and social maneuvering just didn't interest him. He had a larger block of cheese to gnaw down to size; the rats that had been associating with Ron!

In his heart, he just couldn't blame his big friend; Ron was just too friendly and trusting. He didn't realize how conniving rodents could be, how they could take advantage of a human's naivety. Well, as soon as he got clear of this dinner engagement, there were rats in the mansion who were going to get a piece of his mind, delivered with the skill of a Mystical Monkey Power charged, naked warrior. It was a relief when the elder human and her daughter left to talk politics, leaving him to go outside with his human and the golden-haired one.

Once in the formal gardens, he slipped quickly away from the two humans, following his nose along the scent trails. His ire grew by the second. There were rodents on Earth that lived as parasites, devouring the food that humans produced and living in their homes, even going so far as to damage their unwitting hosts' structures and other possessions. That was the sort of thing that gave all rodents a bad name and Rufus had worked long and hard to change rodent attitudes wherever he went. He understood that one rat couldn't change the world, but he made sure that rodent-kind lived up to its obligation in his little corner of it. Now, it looked like he was faced with the same situation on Remnant.

Well, there was no time like the present to deal with things.

He followed his a scent trail to a moderately cleverly hidden entrance into the mansion's wall. Once inside, he scrambled through a series of tunnels, the scent of rat growing more powerful by the moment. Soon, he came upon what he suspected would be the first of many local rats that he would encounter that night.

The rat wasn't completely lazy, Rufus admitted, and it had some grasp of proper etiquette. It was larger than him, and demonstrated its size by turning broadside to the invader and arching its back. Rufus had seen this display dozens of times before, by larger and more rugged rats than the doe now in front of him. The naked mole rat simply kept his course and speed, showing no reaction to the hostile reception. The resident rodent lunged at him, her teeth bared.

Rufus ducked to his left and caught the attacker's right fore-paw in a wrist-lock. Twisting the limb, he executed a hip-toss that sent the doe tumbling into a wall. Dazed, she shook her head to gain her equilibrium while Rufus waited, patiently, for her to regain her wits. As soon as she did, she lunged at him again. As much as Rufus had to admire her spunk, he wasn't about to become distracted. Her attack was classic, a lunge with her incisors while trying to seize him with her front paws; but he had dealt with these so many times before. He caught her lower jaw and drove a double kick into her belly. The air flew out of the Atlesian rat's lungs and she dropped into a furry, shuddering heap. Rufus gave her no time to recover, putting her into a hammerlock and chittering instructions into her ear. Her eyes flew wide...at least wide for a rat...and she struggled a bit but then gave up and nodded. Rufus released the hammerlock and grabbed her tail, allowing her to lead him further into the tunnels within the Schnee walls while keeping a tight grip on her. Soon, they reached his destination.

Rufus didn't know the name of the rat who was counting peanuts in a large warren, but immediately knew that this was this section's alpha. He also knew that this was the rat that Ron had befriended; the rat that regularly interacted with the Schnee matron. Rufus released the doe as the buck in front of him reared up to its full height, displaying that it was considerably larger than he was.

Rufus was not impressed.

The alpha, who Rufus now recalled was known as Unscharf, lunged at him, mouth wide and incisors closing...only to drive himself right into Rufus' suplex. The naked mole rat gave his opponent credit; he didn't stay down long. He scrambled to his paws and lunged again, this time catching an elbow strike to the side of the head. Dazed, he let loose a piercing squeal. In response, four large buck's emerged from side tunnels.

Rufus was content with this, it would save time.

He had a few moments to note that while the oncoming rats were brave, they weren't trained to fight as a team. That would be among the first things to address, and addressing that would be easier once he delivered a few, painful lessons. Rufus was busy for the next few minutes; not only did he have to contend with four opponents that were larger than him, he wanted to avoid inflicting too much damage. He had identified this band as the mischief with the most potential to live up to the standards he was going to enforce.

In the end, the rats had never faced a rodent that had studied at a ninja school, much less one that was channeling mystical monkey power. They also seemed incapable of grasping that fact that the size of the rat in the fight wasn't as important as the amount of fight in the rat...at least at first. In the end, the four enforcers were sprawled around the den, sporting painful, humiliating, but not serious injuries. More importantly, all six rats were now looking at him with the clear understanding that he was now calling the shots.

First mission accomplished!

With a few squeaks and gestures, he ordered the six rats to gather the entire mischief outside, in the shadow of the mansion. It was time to judge the size of the group, so he could judge the requests he would have to have Ron pass on to Kline. After that, some basic drilling and outlining what he expected of the unofficial residents of the mansion.

It was time to turn this mischief of rats into something the Schnees could be proud of.

* * *

 _My thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for his beta reading._


	2. Chapter 2

A pounding on the door jolted Yang out of sleep.

"Get moving!" Weiss' voice shouted through the door. "Just because you're a guest doesn't mean you get to just lay about! Workout in ten minutes!"

Uncharacteristically, Yang bit back a sarcastic comment; being a guest was the perfect excuse to lay about. Besides, sleeping past six wasn't exactly sleeping in. Still, if she was going to be a huntress, she would need to keep on her game. Some real physical activity, after the last several days, was just what she needed to clear her head.

Back to only having one arm, it took her a bit longer to pull on her clothing and take care of certain morning needs...and Weiss' pounding on the door every few minutes didn't help. Oh, the smaller girl was going to pay for that when she got her arm back! Come to think of it, Weiss was going to pay for that during training right now!

"Alright already," she groused as she threw the door open. "I guess there's no such thing as taking a break, is there?"

"Of course not," Weiss snapped at her. "This is training, and a fight doesn't wait until you're in the mood!"

The smaller girl spun and rushed off through the mansion, dragging Yang along via the sheer insolence of her manner. Yang couldn't help but grin; how many times had she made the same remark? Weiss led her out of a back door and to a tennis court. There, the two started to stretch and were quickly joined by Ron. Yang carefully suppressed a smirk, wondering when and how the young man would learn that she had fooled him the previous evening.

After stretching, Weiss led them on an endurance course that she and Ron had set up before the adventures in Mistral. Ron's contusions weren't fully healed and Yang wasn't at her full capability with a missing arm, so they couldn't give the heiress near the competition that she was used to...or that she clearly wanted. Yang could understand; sometimes a workout to the point of exhaustion was a good way to get rid of the stress.

"We usually spar after a run," Weiss told her, when they finished back at the tennis court. "But since both of you are..."

"Are nothing!" Yang interrupted her, then lashed out with her left hand. Weiss barely managed to duck the blow.

"A fight happens when it happens!" Yang growled, coming on with a kick that Weiss blocked with her rapier. "It won't wait for a replacement arm...or for contusions to heal!"

The golden-haired girl punctuated this last statement with a spinning back-kick at Ron. To give him credit, he managed to parry the kick, knocking her off-balance. Yang executed a backwards handspring and was enraged that Ron hadn't followed up on his advantage.

"I just attacked you!" She snarled at him, leading off with a kick and punch combination. "That means you fight back! That means to attack when you have the chance! I don't care if you're sore; the grimm won't cut you any slack!"

"I don't care if you don't have a weapon!" She continued her tirade, as Ron parried her kick and ducked her punch. "You _**are**_ the weapon! Do you think a bandit is going to take a timeout while you go get your tonfa? Do you think a grimm is going to sit and growl at you while you draw it?"

Yang was too busy lecturing the young man; he managed to spin and sweep her legs out from under her. She hit hard but didn't let that stop her.

"Weiss, take him!"

Weiss hesitated only a moment before lunging with an attack that did not have her usual speed and skill. Ron was able to draw a tonfa and block, in one, smooth motion.

"Don't take it easy on him," Yang growled at her friend. "The grimm won't; bandits won't!" She flinched inside, finding herself repeating what her father and other instructors at Signal had drilled into her.

Setting her jaw, Weiss formed a series of glyphs around Ron and launched herself into a dizzying attack. Ron took a couple of shots before he managed to get clear of the space. His contusions slowed him a little, so Yang jumped back in, forcing Weiss to avoid her while Ron regained his balance. This set off a running brawl; sometimes it was Yang against Weiss, sometimes it was Yang against Ron, sometimes two would team up against the one. At the end, all three were exhausted but in a strange way, happier. Weiss had let off some tensions that were building up, Ron had the satisfaction of fighting through pain and discomfort and Yang had proven to herself that even with one arm, she was a force to be reckoned with.

"So, what's on everyone's schedule for today?" Yang asked the other two; her way of letting them know that she was no longer in charge.

"I'll be meeting with the board of directors later this morning," Weiss told them. "I'd like to go in, alone, for this first meeting." She gave Ron a slightly guilty look. "It's best if I break the news to them, and present the medical reports, without you there. Tomorrow, before the press conference, I'll have you meet with the board...if it's okay with you."

"Yeah," Ron looked strangely uncomfortable, but pulled out his scroll and checked his own messages. "Hey! Dr. Physiker says that she's made some breakthroughs and would like to talk to me today."

"I'd like to see if my arm is ready," Yang shrugged. "So maybe I can head into the academy with you, today."

"Works for me," Ron shrugged.

"Well, it's time for a shower and breakfast," Weiss declared. "That was a great workout."

Yang knew that her friend was on the verge of admitting that she had needed it, but was still just a little to proud to say so. That was fine, it had taken her almost a year to let herself be vulnerable around her teammates, so it would probably take time for her to regain that feeling of trust. Instead, the brawler let the smaller girl lead the way back towards the mansion...but the group came to a halt when Ron suddenly stopped and stared towards a section of the garden.

"Oh by the almighty naco, what's he doing now?" The young man grumbled, which prompted Yang and Weiss to look in the direction he was. Both could only gawk.

Perhaps a dozen rats were lined up, in three rows, facing Rufus. As the three humans watched, the naked mole rat led the other rodents in a series of martial arts moves that seemed to emphasize bites and claw swipes, rather than punching and kicking.

"How did so many rats get on the grounds?" Weiss asked.

"Rats get everywhere," Yang answered, even though it was a rhetorical question. "They're clever and adaptable. But am I seeing what I think I'm seeing?"

"Rufus is training them," Ron groaned, face-palming. "I've learned that it's better not to ask, but I'm going to ask him anyway. Let's go to breakfast. Trust me, Rufus will show up for meal time."

Although his companions seemed reluctant to turn their backs on the spectacle playing out, the call of warm water and good food pulled them away.

Washing and getting dressed took Yang a bit longer than usual, with only one hand, but she was considerably faster than she had been when she had first started to come to grips with her new situation. She had clean undergarments and while she flinched a bit at the idea of putting her dirty clothing on, she shrugged and realized that she would just have to adapt. A knock on her door, quieter and more polite than the one Weiss had used earlier to get her out of bed, jolted her out of her reverie.

"Who is it?" She called.

"Weiss," the familiar, albeit muffled, voice answered.

"C'mon in."

The heiress, impeccably dressed and with not so much as a hair out of placed, opened the door and slipped inside, closing the door in an almost timid manner.

"Don't take this wrong," she said, almost nervously. "But with you being down an arm, I thought you could use some help with your hair."

Yang had a momentary surge of anger, which she quickly pushed back down. Again, her smaller friend proved that she understood people a great deal more than most gave her credit for. Weiss knew that she was vain about her hair...and also didn't like just anyone touching it. She was faced with the choice of either showing up to breakfast with a vast, rat's nest or letting someone else help her. If she was going to let someone else touch her hair, she would be most comfortable with someone she knew, in private.

"Yeah, I could use a hand," Yang admitted, then sat down at the vanity. Weiss opened a drawer and pulled out a beautiful, silver brush and started to work. It took Yang a few moments to truly relax, but Weiss clearly knew what she was about. It took some time, but her mane was finally brushed out and directed back over her shoulders in her usual style.

"Thanks," she said, climbing to her feet.

"Don't mention it," Weiss told her. "We have to stick together here."

Yang placed a comforting hand on Weiss' shoulder. While her own family life wasn't as good as it had been, she had no doubt that her father, sister and uncle loved her. At the moment, Weiss had only her mother, which meant that the mansion wasn't the place of refuge that a home should be. Friends like her, and companions that could turn into something more, like Ron, were precious to her.

"We better get to breakfast," Weiss told her. "Ron will eat it all if we're late."

"He's in for a challenge," Yang declared, then followed her back to the dining room. There, they saw Ron working on a portable grill under Kline's somewhat disproving eye.

"Breakfast burritos," the Earth-man declared. "They seemed to be a hit on Anima."

"And they are quite tasty," Einsam added, nibbling on one.

Bemused, the two young women took their seats and Kline took their requests for beverages. By the time he returned with coffee and fruit juice, Ron placed a strange food item on each of their plates. While Yang was ready to pick it up and eat with her hands, she followed Weiss' example and used a knife and fork. To her surprise, it was very good. While she was able to eat three with no trouble, she was shocked to see Weiss, usually a dainty eater, put down two.

"A wonderful meal, Mr. Stoppable," Einsam congratulated him, when the two girls had finished their meals. "Now, let us discuss what we will be doing today."

"I have a meeting with the board in about an hour," Weiss reminded everyone. "I not only need to discuss our current situation, but they will need to update me as to the status of the company. I've looked at some of the figures already, but I have some questions for them."

"Dr. Physiker wants to meet this afternoon," Ron told the matriarch. "And Yang said that she'd like to come with me. Maybe we can try to see the general while we're there."

"Excellent," Einsam noted. "I have a seamstress coming to visit. Miss Xiao Long, you are a lovely girl and I'm sure you're used to wearing those clothes while on missions, but we must get you some changes while you're here."

"I don't need anything custom made," Yang protested, but Weiss could tell she liked the idea of being properly fitted.

"It's no problem at all," Einsam insisted. "It's been far too long since I've had several young people in this house. On another note, Whitley will arrive tomorrow evening and as much as I'm sure my daughter will be tempted to perform some physical alterations to him, I'm hoping that we can handle this in a somewhat civilized manner."

"I have an idea," Ron told her. "Although I'm going to have to discuss it with Kline." The young man actually flinched. "To be honest, Rufus has made some suggestions that he'd like me to bring up with you."

"After we see Weiss off," Einsam insisted. "I will be at your disposal."

"Actually, I'd like to hear both the idea and the suggestions," Weiss told her mother.

The three women, two Schnees and a Xiao Long, listened first with horror, and then with disbelief.

* * *

"Rufus really isn't a normal rat, is he?" Yang asked Ron, as the two walked through the Atlas Academy campus.

"Nope," Ron smiled at the little guy riding on his shoulder. "Normal is way overrated."

"I'll agree with that," Yang nodded.

True to her word, Einsam had a seamstress measure Yang shortly after Weiss had left for her meeting. Trust the Atlesians to be efficient, the seamstress had a Beacon Uniform in approximately Yang's size with her, and was able to quickly alter it to fit the young woman. Wearing this uniform, and accompanied by Ron wearing his Atlas Academy uniform, the two didn't stand out very much on the campus. There were a few looks directed their way, but Ron didn't know how many were due to the different uniform and how many were because of Yang. He had to admit, Yang could turn heads.

Then he remembered that certain functions were different in this world and began to feel more than a little uncomfortable with is admission.

Fortunately, they had a destination; the medical center. Before long, they were checking in at the front desk and asking after General Ironwood's status. They were happy to learn that the general was awake and coherent. They were happier to learn that he had placed the two of them on the approved visitors list. They were even happier to learn that Yang's new transducer had been constructed and delivered, and the staff was ready to help her tune it. However, they weren't very happy to learn that the medical center had no protocol for allowing rodents into the facility. Procedure meant that they couldn't bring Rufus along with them. The rodent himself came up with an answer.

"Rufus would like to meet Pelz," Ron told Yang.

"Who's Pelz?" Yang wondered.

"A long story," he sighed. "But why don't I take Rufus to meet her while the staff fits your arm? This way, I can see Dr. Physiker while you're testing it. When I come back, we can both visit the General."

"Sounds like a plan," she shrugged.

"No rough stuff," Ron admonished his friend, as he walked across the campus to the older buildings. "I know you don't like the idea of me associating with another rat, but I needed favors and she was willing to help...for peanuts."

"Harrumph!" Rufus crossed his arms and glared at the man.

The mole rat could smell the scents in the air, and he didn't like them. While this Pelz might be marginally acceptable, there was too much parasitic rodent activity taking place here for Rufus' liking. He knew that rodents were apt to simply sponge off of unwitting hosts, but this was a combat academy serving a human population in danger! What would those rats do if the humans were overwhelmed? While the food loss and structural damage was probably minuscule, what if that little bit was enough to tip the balance? He knew his job; he was going to have to put things right here, even as he put things right at the Schnee Mansion.

A naked mole-rat's job was never done.

Ron walked to a specific building and knocked on a drainage pipe. He then walked through the area a short time before sitting on a bench, near the building and next to a bush. A few minutes later, a rustling sounded in the foliage. Moments after that, a doe rat slipped out of the deeper bushes, but remained within the cover of the plant.

She was a very well-formed doe, Rufus noted.

The rat chittered at Ron, in a very disrespectful tone.

"I just got back to Atlas yesterday," Ron protested. "You lived here before I showed up, so you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself for a day or two!"

She chittered some more.

"Pelz, of course we're friends!" Ron answered. "But that doesn't mean I have to look you up the moment I get back to the continent! Can you grasp the concept of clingy?"

Rufus smirked as the other rat gave an indignant squeak.

"Anyway, this is Rufus, my best friend," Ron gestured to the naked mole rat on his shoulder. "I have to go see one of the scientists, who works in a place that's dangerous for you to try to sneak into. He asked to have a few words with you. I'll be back in a few hours."

Rufus gestured for Ron to set him down. He waited, with a forced smile, as Ron walked away. Once the young man was out of sight, he turned a beady-eyed glare onto Pelz, and received one in return. She got the first shot in, pointing out that she did not appreciate him showing up in her territory. He countered by telling her that any rat incapable of holding territory didn't really deserve it. This got her temper to flare, and she reared up onto her haunches, displaying how much larger she was than him. Rufus was not impressed.

Instead of fighting or running away, he asked why she was extorting peanuts from a naive boy when she could be so much more. Insulted, she squeaked at him, challenging him to see what she had built, and scurried off, drawing him after her with her sheer insolence. Shrugging and knowing what was about to happen, he followed her into a nearby building.

The ambush hit earlier than he expected it to, but he was still ready. As he passed a side-passage in the warrens, two large bucks emerged and tried to pin him between them...which impressed him slightly. Even though this assault was more organized than the one in the Schnee Mansion, the result was the same; the rats simply weren't ready for an opponent that was imbued with mystical monkey power and had studied at a ninja school. A jump and a twist allowed Rufus to avoid both attackers. With no target to slow them, they plowed into each other. Moving quickly, the naked mole rat seized both of them by the scruff of the neck and bonked their heads together several times, stunning them. He turned back to Pelz before she fully understood what had happened.

She tried to run, of course, but Rufus was right on her tail...literally. He pursued her through one final opening and into what was most likely her personal den. She stood her ground, frightened but defiant, as Rufus noted the clean bedding that was imbued with her scent and the stockpile of peanuts and other dry foodstuffs. To her shock, instead of attacking, he asked her why she thought so small.

She was indignant and confused; she gestured to her own den and told about her warren, how her mischief occupied two buildings and she paid another mischief to spy in another one. Rufus admitted to being surprised at her cleverness, but pointed out that she could be so much more.

Her fear gave way to curiosity when he described his idea that she could expand her mischief, even take control of additional such groups, so that each building on the campus would have its own population of rats, making sure that the rat population didn't get out of control. She would be in charge of it all.

She scoffed, wondering why the humans would ever put up with it. She had enough problems with exterminators. Rufus was even more impressed with her, realizing that he had found a rat with foresight to manage the operation. He replied with logic, pointing out that it would cost the humans less money and effort to pay off the hypothetical rat nation than they were expending to try to eliminate the rats from the campus. In addition, the rats would prove useful. They lived in the walls, under the floors and above the ceilings, areas where humans couldn't easily reach. The rats could report damages to the structures, utilities and other infrastructure long before the humans noticed such problems, and when repairs would be easy and inexpensive.

She was thinking of the possibilities, and Rufus found himself admiring the fact that she didn't simply jump at the opportunity without thinking things through. She expressed doubt, as such a soft life would attract other rats to force their way in. That's when Rufus pointed out that because her own mischief wouldn't need to forage for food and avoid humans, they would be free to concentrate on fighting ability and keep other rats away. She reacted to this with interest...but skepticism. She expressed doubts that training would make rats that much better at fighting.

While Rufus had hoped she would see the irony of her own doubts, having just seen him easily overwhelm her two toughest bucks, he had no problem with providing another example. He directed her to take him, and one of her bucks, to a building occupied by a rival mischief. The local rats knew a route using a steam tunnel, so they didn't have to risk being observed by humans...at least just yet. However, once in the utility chases of the new building, Rufus didn't bother with stealth; he stomped along until the new rats converged on him.

This alpha was a buck, who showed up with another, only slightly smaller buck, and two large doe. Gesturing his two companions to stay back, Rufus caught the charging alpha in a headlock and used this as a launching point to swing his own body around to catch one of the doe with a double kick, which sent her sprawling into the other buck. He finished his move by suplexing the alpha, driving the air out of the stunned rat's lungs. The last doe, charging rather clumsily, caught his knee in her chin. Surrounded by six, stunned rats, Rufus grabbed the alpha by one of his ears and let him know that he, the naked newcomer, was the new alpha. The former alpha could only squeak his agreement, then Rufus informed him that he would be taking orders from Pelz. With that, this building was part of Rufus' plan and he had Pelz and her buck lead him to another building. Rufus noted the look of awed respect the other rats gave him and, in Pelz's case, the gaze held something a little more.

They visited three more buildings, and Rufus delivered painful messages to fourteen more rats. At the end of their sojourn, a total of five more buildings were under Pelz's, and by extension Rufus', control. By this time, Rufus was feeling just a little tired, as he was used to sleeping up to twenty hours a day. Still, it was a solid start and showed Pelz just what proper training could do for a rat's fighting ability. When they returned to Pelz's building, she offered to share some food in her private den. Rufus admitted to working up a bit of an appetite and although there wasn't any cheese to be had, the peanuts and gleanings from the students' dining facility were much to his taste. However, Pelz wasn't quite finished with him.

The look she gave him made him more than a little nervous; after all, they had only just met. Then he reminded himself that while he would probably live into his twenties...even if the mystical monkey power didn't extend his life, she would only live for a couple of years. For her, certain...relationships...would have to move at a pace that he would consider hasty. He tried to politely express his disapproval of what she had in mind, then he reflected that she was well formed, her fur was clean, soft, and very inviting. Her whiskers twitched in a most seductive manner and her haunches were almost hypnotic with the way they moved.

He came to the conclusion that he was on Atlas now, so he might as well establish friendly contacts with the natives.

A naked mole-rat's work was never done.

* * *

"Ah, good to see you again, Mr. Stoppable," Dr. Physiker, still in a lab coat, greeted the young man. "I understand that you sustained some injuries during your adventures in Mistral, it's most fortunate that you weren't seriously harmed."

"I'm in agreement with that," Ron assured her. The physicist offered him a friendly smile at the quip.

"I don't follow the gossip news," she told him, leading him from the underground train and towards her office. "But I'm not so blind that I don't know the controversy that's surrounding you and the Schnee Heiress. I'm certain that the two of you are going to be busy addressing these rumors, so I'll take as little of your time as possible. I've made some interesting findings by studying the material that you recovered from the bomb."

By now, the two had reached her office and the scientist waved him to a dusty chair while she sat behind her desk and manipulated controls for her desk's projected screen. Ron brushed the worst of the dirt from the chair, reflecting that the doctor must not get much company in her office, before sitting down.

"I've also been reviewing the academic notes from your communication device," Physiker continued. "I really wish you had studied chemistry, physics, or civil engineering."

"I'm not that much of a math wizard," Ron protested.

"A pity," she sighed. "The material from those science courses you have taken has been a windfall. For instance, we don't have this bomb material...uranium...on Remnant. In fact, Remnant has no elements more dense than gold."

Ron simply looked at her, slightly puzzled.

"Uranium is more dense than gold," Physiker pointed out. "As are some of the other elements used to create this...nuke...as you called it. From reading your works, it appears that the element lead is very common on your world, but doesn't exist in ours."

"I really don't know what to say about that," Ron admitted.

"Not surprising," there was no sense of arrogance to the doctor's tone, just a simple acknowledgment of her own intelligence. "Most people don't know the implications of this...even university professors. I have sent the explosives from the bomb to our chemistry laboratory; some of the compounds are beyond our ability to duplicate."

"We are able to determine various elements that go into them," she continued, when Ron clearly didn't know what this meant. "And these elements are readily available here. Yet, for some reason, these elements do not bind together. The chemists are trying to put a good face on things, stating that they are trying new methods of forming intermediate compounds, but I'm reasonably sure that they will not be able to re-create these explosives...or only be able to produce microscopic amounts. You see, Mr. Stoppable, not only does your universe have more diverse materials than ours, those material react to each other in different ways."

"So, you couldn't re-create a nuke even if you knew how and wanted to?" Ron asked her.

"Perhaps," she countered. "You see, Mr. Stoppable, I believe that your universe has a greater diversity of matter, but this universe has a greater diversity of energy."

Ron thought about that for a moment. "It doesn't make sense," he finally said. "You said that you don't have radiation...the gamma rays that I was talking about."

"I see you are putting this together," she nodded her approval. "No, we don't have such energies, but they are merely higher energy waves of energies that we are used to. Rather, we have more types of energy, such as magic and aura. In fact, dust is really just energy in a solid form."

"I don't understand why this is important," Ron admitted.

"Mr. Stoppable, I tried repeatedly to detect this radiation that you warned me about. However, it was not until I fitted a receiving sleeve over the material, then encased it in a grounded, copper cover that I was able to detect minute signatures of this energy...clearly not enough to cause any harm to anyone. I'm sure that you can understand the implications of this."

"The folks at BatiKiyisi don't have to worry about fallout," Ron told her.

"Indeed. However, there are two further developments that I have discovered. First, I can assure you that such experiments that I have performed on this material have been in extremely controlled conditions. My laboratory, and in particular the case that holds this material, would make a surgical room look like a pigsty in comparison. Upon completion of every experiment, we carefully clean out the case and check for any specks of this material that may have flaked off of the main mass. We have discovered...dust."

Ron just looked at her with a confused expression.

"I do not mean the common dirt, Mr. Stoppable, I mean the energy source," she pointed out. "And I can assure you that there was no such dust present in the case prior to any such tests."

"So the radiation..."

"Is becoming dust, Mr. Stoppable. Somehow, on Remnant, this high frequency energy becomes dust. The amount being produced is microscopic, so minute that I cannot classify it as to the type, but it is unmistakably dust."

"Okay, radiation turns to dust on Remnant," Ron answered. "What about the other implication?"

"I can understand how the explosives trigger this...atomic reaction...you were talking about," she answered. "There was a sphere of this uranium and the explosives were positioned in such a way as to collapse it into a smaller, even more dense mass. This would have created a critical mass at which it could decompose into energy. However, there was also a cylinder of impossible materials, and it wasn't surrounded by explosives. I suspect that the radiation from the compressed sphere interacts with this cylinder to generate even more of a blast."

"But in a world without radiation..." Ron countered.

"I believe that the detonation at Batik released enough energy to overcome the dampening effect of Remnant," Physiker interrupted him. "However, I have forms of energy to work with that you probably don't on Earth. There's a good chance that, were I to attempt to do so, I could find an energy source that could detonate the cylinder."

"But..."

"Relax, Mr. Stoppable," she told him. "I have no intention of creating such a weapon, or of destroying the material that is proving to be so fascinating. I am a pure physicist, and while I am perfectly aware that General Ironwood assigns engineers to adapt my findings to military applications, I have no intent of creating such a wonder weapon."

Ron still looked doubtful.

"This is Remnant, Mr. Stoppable," she reminded him, with a slight roll of her eyes. "While there are four kingdoms, we are at peace and have a greater threat looming over us. This isn't your world, where nations with millions of people contend over limited territory. We have more territory than we can occupy, controlled by the grimm. It is of no benefit for Atlas to see one of the other kingdoms...or Menagerie...destroyed."

Ron relaxed a little.

"I think I can help a little with the issue you and Miss Schnee are struggling to address," she offered. "We in Atlas like to think of ourselves as intellectuals; more interested in scientific advances than in gossip about interpersonal relations. Granted, the large number of people who can make a living at being scandal reporters suggests that this isn't the case, but we all like to put on the public appearance. I have prepared a report on what I've found and will cross-load it to your scroll. Provide it to Miss Schnee, and let her publicist decide how to use it. There's a good chance that at least some of the reporters will become so enamored of the differences between Remnant and Earth that they may gloss over the questions about your relationship with Miss Schnee."

"Is everybody here that much smarter than I am?" Ron asked. He had flinched about the suggestion of a relationship between him and Weiss, but was determined to be ready to back her up.

"Not at all," the doctor smiled at him. "There is a great deal of layman's terms in this report. For example, much of my initial research was prompted by you talking about sunburn. We don't have sunburn here on Remnant. Clearly, on Earth there is an extra-planetary energy that can cause this injury. We also don't have compasses, so it's clear that we don't have this planetary magnetic field. We have lived here with other energies for so long that we have never considered that other energies can exist. These energies on Remnant cancel out radiation and the potential, magnetic field."

She sighed before continuing. "Mr. Stoppable, I was a very content physicist before you came along; I knew the nature of energy and matter in the universe...and then I realized that I didn't. I took for granted the very nature of energy that surrounds my world. Now, I am no longer content, I have new paths to research, paths that will last well beyond my lifetime."

"Err...why is it that sunburn doesn't exist on Remnant?" Ron asked.

"Because another energy, one that nobody suspected, infuses Remnant and converts that harmful radiation from the sun into dust," she answered. "Just like it converts these gamma rays." She shook her head again. "There will need to be a great deal more research, but I believe that Remnant is an older planet than Earth, but that Earth comes from an older universe. Perhaps there have been an entire generation of stars that have formed and gone nova, that have given you these ultra-dense elements. On the other hand, we have different and more energies. For instance, we can create a magnetic field easily enough, but our planet doesn't have one that is powerful enough to move a compass needle...or to block solar radiation. There's something else in play and until I got my hands on a radiation source, I assumed that it was our atmosphere. The fact that I can place the uranium in a vacuum and still not be able to measure the radiation tells me that it's something else."

"Let me guess, you don't have an idea," Ron grumbled.

"Not at this time," she shrugged, smiling with the challenge ahead of her. "But with a radiation source, I can actually start to search. I may learn a great deal more on the nature of dust itself. By the way, I have a working theory as to why you were injured when you returned to Earth."

"Oh?" Ron asked, now a little more interested. "The doctors in Mistral said it was Earth's atmosphere."

"Just like we have all assumed that Remnant's atmosphere empowers dust," she shrugged. "Mr. Stoppable, you found yourself in a reality where aura doesn't exist, a power vacuum if you will. Energy always flows from excess to deficit. It is my theory that your aura flowed out of you, damaging your body on the way, because there was no countering energy like there is on Atlas." She paused for a few moments. "We're still experimenting with alternate power sources for possible spacecraft. This tells me that when we get around to actually launching a manned vehicle out of the atmosphere, the crew shouldn't have activated aura."

"Well, glad I could help," Ron told her. "I wish that I found this more interesting, but..."

"But you're not a physicist, on either Atlas or Earth," she finished for him. "It's understandable. Mr. Stoppable, while you aren't a scientist, simple things that you remember from Earth could have incredible relevance here. I'll be calling you in repeatedly."

"I'm glad someone finds me useful," he sighed. "And that someone will give me a choice."

"Oh, something that I could perhaps help you with?"

"I guess not," he told her, getting to his feet. "It's mystical stuff, so it's not the sort of thing that a scientist would probably waste her time on."

"I don't mean just to discuss scientific breakthroughs," the doctor told him. "Mr. Stoppable...Ron...you are a young adult who had suddenly found himself struggling to adapt to a situation that nobody could envision before it happened to you. If you need advice about life on Atlas and your place in it, please speak to me. I'll give you some advice right now; you've formed friendships and comradeship with several of your peers. Don't turn your back on them, humans on Earth and humans on Remnant are social creatures, and several have welcomed you into their lives. You may be the only Earth man on Remnant, but you're hardly alone."

* * *

Ron thought about the doctor's final words to him on the way back to the Medical Center. He had already made close friends, even someone who he had to admit that he had romantic feelings for and who he knew returned those feelings for him. Still, he felt that he was betraying his family, and KP, by even considering moving on...even though he didn't have any choice. Learning that he wasn't...anatomically compatible...didn't exactly help matters. This was a piece of information he wasn't about to share with the physicist.

As much as he missed Earth, he had to admire the computer capabilities that Remnant, and especially Atlas, had developed. Case in point, an in-building navigation center at the Medical Center. All he had to do was click on his scroll that he wanted to visit Yang Xiao Long and the system not only granted him permission to enter, it guided him to the proper location within the facility...even going so far as to let the technicians working with Yang know that he was on the way. He wasn't exactly ready for what he saw when he opened the proper door and stepped inside to see a man in a lab coat swing a hammer at Yang's head.

Reflexes, acquired through years of being a sidekick and then roughly a year of life on Atlas, kicked in. He noted that Yang blocked the strike, giving a slight yelp, then Ron had a hold of the man from behind, forcing him to drop his weapon.

"Hey!" Yang protested. "We were just accomplishing something!"

"I thought you were supposed to get fitted for your re-tooled arm!" Ron countered, not letting the technician go. "Not getting into fights! What's happening here?"

"We were adjusting her pain feedback," the man informed him, in a very indignant voice.

"The first version of my arm worked great," Yang told him. "But I had no way, other than examining it, to tell if it was damaged. They made the transducer better, it gives me pain feedback based upon the damage it takes. That's why I had to come in."

"Why couldn't someone have told me this?" Ron demanded, picking up the hammer and sheepishly handing it back to the technician.

"We weren't expecting you to burst in and react like that," the man snarled. "It's against procedure. Now, judging by Miss Xiao Long's reaction, we seem to have the feedback set to high. If this newcomer will be so kind as to stand aside and let us work, we can finish this in a short time."

Turning red in the face, Ron went to where he now saw two more technicians, standing behind a projected screen. As he watched, the technician swung several more strikes at Yang, all of which she blocked, first with her robot arm and then with her real arm. Under her direction, the medical team performed adjustments until Yang claimed that the pain she felt from both arms was about the same.

"Thanks, guys," she offered them heartfelt appreciation when they were finally done. "Sorry about the interruption; when you're in the business, you don't react well to someone swinging at a friend."

"No harm done," the lead man offered Ron a conciliatory nod. "But I'd like to have you check with us again, after using it for a few days."

"That's a deal," Yang gave him a gentle...for her...swat on the shoulder that staggered him. With that, she grabbed Ron by the elbow and led him out of the procedure room that they had been in.

"Oh, I'm glad you showed up when you did," she admitted. "That was getting boring!" She tapped at her scroll, checking to see if she and Ron were on the approved visitors list for General Ironwood.

"He was hitting you with a hammer!" Ron protested. "That's boring?"

"It was the way they were doing it!" She grumbled. "Each swing, that guy described the angle and force. Blocking was child's play and I didn't get to hit back. I hope you and Weiss are up to that conditioning course of yours tomorrow, I have a lot of tension to work out. Okay, we can visit the headmaster, let's go."

In his defense, Ron was somewhat used to decisive (some would say bossy) young women dragging him around on a whim. So, despite the fact that he would have preferred if Yang had asked him if he wanted to see the headmaster, he was fine just following along. Again, the scroll signals informed them that the man was awake and expecting them, as well as guiding them to his room.

Ron was relieved to note that they weren't going to the intensive care section of the hospital. When they reached their destination, the door was already open and the general was examining a projected screen, making occasional notes with his left hand.

"Ah, Miss Xiao Long, Mr. Stoppable, please come in and be seated," he instructed them, once he spotted them outside the door. He quickly turned off the screen.

"Is this wise?" Yang asked him. "I thought you were supposed to take it easy."

"The transducers that the staff have provided are perfectly adequate to handle any increase of stress," he told her. "To be honest, leaving this work to someone else would probably cause even more stress. I trust you have been treated well?"

"I can't complain," Yang told him. "The staff are making my arm better than before, and the Schnee Mansion is quite the place to stay."

"Indeed," he nodded. "I have long suspected Einsam of being lonely in the big house, with Jacques so cold towards her. She seemed to enjoy having young people with her." He paused for a moment. "I've heard that Weiss is calling for a press conference tomorrow afternoon. My new transducers should be ready and installed tomorrow morning, so I should have sufficient mobility to attend and answer questions."

"Is that a good idea?" Ron asked.

"It's better than the alternatives," Ironwood told him. "As much as Miss Schnee is an intelligent, capable young woman, there are those that may consider her to be easily manipulated. By backing her up, I'll show that a member of the Atlesian Government was aware of your origins and approved of your presence. At times like these, a united front is the best."

"I'll take your word for it," Ron shrugged.

"However, I am going to have to ask some service from the two of you."

"What's that?" Yang asked him.

"A significant portion of the Atlesian Military was destroyed in Anima," he answered. "As it is, we are struggling to keep the grimm from our borders. After the incident in Haven, the council is understandably hesitant to allow me to use automated forces, so I cannot deploy unmanned paladins or even remotely controlled knights. It is going to take a significant amount of time for me to train personnel to pilot the paladins, so say nothing of training proper specialists. My kingdom is vulnerable at this time, so I intend to mimic what Headmaster Lionheart is doing in Mistral. He is augmenting the available huntsmen with students. I would like the two of you, as well as Miss Schnee, to augment my forces."

Yang appeared hesitant.

"It wasn't luck that put you in the finals round of the latest Vytal Tournament," he told her. "So you're hardly out of your league. Of course, I know that you wish to return to Vale and Beacon, so I assure you that this isn't a permanent solution. I will maintain contact with Ozpin and let you know when classes are ready to resume. In the meantime, you will earn both lien and credit."

"Do I have to answer right away?" She asked.

"Not at all, you'll have to spend a couple of days calibrating your arm's pain sensors, so take that time to consider my offer." He smiled slightly, "of course, I may have you conducting missions during this time."

"You know me all to well," she grinned at him. "I'm more for action than studying."

A chiming on the screen took the general's attention away from the students. "Classified business," he told them. "If you'll excuse me, I'll see you before the press conference."

Yang and Ron offered farewells, but the general was already absorbed by more documents on the screen. Shrugging, Ron led the way back to where he had left Rufus and followed his earlier routine; knocking on a drainage pipe before taking a seat on a bench. Minutes later, the foliage rustled a little and both Pelz and Rufus emerged. His little friend seemed tired, so Ron gave him a hand up to his shoulder while Pelz looked on with an affectionate gaze before vanishing back into the bushes.

"So, did you and Pelz get along?" Ron asked, leading the way to where a bus would take them back towards the Schnee Mansion.

"Mmmm-hmmm."

* * *

It was getting late by the time Klein pulled up to the front door of the Schnee Mansion. While Weiss understood the need to maintain propriety, especially with the scrutiny that she was currently under, she wasn't a helpless princess.

"Put the car away," she told the man. "I can let myself into the house."

The servant looked scandalized...but only for a moment before nodding. If Weiss wanted to show a little independence by not being waited on hand and foot, he was willing to oblige her.

"As you will, Miss Schnee."

Weiss offered him a warm smile, let herself out of the car and made her way into the front door. While she dearly loved her mother, was very fond of Yang and wasn't quite sure just how to classify Ron, she wanted a few minutes to herself. It had been a very difficult day, taking hours longer than she had expected it to. What she found irritating was that she couldn't complain about the extended meeting; her board of directors had brought up good points that needed to be addressed. The discussions had become heated at times, but in the end they had formed a solid plan for addressing questions that were sure to fly her way. Checking the time, she decided that she would have just enough time for a quick shower, to ease the tensions in her shoulders, before dinner.

Feeling considerably better after her shower, Weiss noted that there was still several minutes before dinner. She decided to go to the gardens and see if she could speak to her mother for a bit. She was both happy and surprised to find Ron waiting for her at the foot of the stairs.

"I thought I'd warn you to prepare yourself," Ron told her. "Your mother has already acquired some clothing for Yang."

"I can imagine," Weiss snorted. "And I see that you're dressed to fit in." She took a moment to admire that he looked very nice. "How is she handling it?"

"Yang or your mother?"

"Both," Weiss told him.

"Well, Yang seems to be enjoying it," he shrugged. "Maybe the novelty of being dressed well is keeping her interested. Your mother seems to be enjoying having her around to work with."

"She's turning Yang into a project," Weiss smiled. "After the press conference tomorrow, look for mother to throw another party and let Yang shake things up just a little." Her expression darkened.

"I take it you're not looking forward to the press conference," Ron noted her frown. "General Ironwood, and Dr. Physiker, have both asked to speak."

"I got the message," Weiss assured him. "It's just that..." she took a deep breath. "I'm sure I'm going to get grilled on our relationship."

"We're friends," he assured her. "We stick together."

"Is that all we are?" She asked him. "That night in Mistral; it wasn't just a spur of the moment thing, we had been working towards it." Her eyes dropped to the floor. "Or at least I hoped we were."

"We were," he said. "But maybe it's best that we didn't, it would have been awkward, but we have something to silence all the questions."

She looked at him, confused.

"It turns out, we're not compatible," he told her. "I don't have a receiving pouch."

"What?"

"For your ovipositor," he told her.

"My what?"

"Yang told me," he plunged on, despite his embarrassment. "On Remnant, the woman inserts her ovipositor into the man's receiving pouch but on Earth, the man..."

"Ron!" Weiss snapped at him. She rubbed her forehead, trying to dispel the headache that the shower had so recently dispelled. "You've had several, complete medical exams, done by doctors from three kingdoms. If you don't have something you're supposed to, or have something you're not supposed to, don't you think one of them would have mentioned it?"

"I...didn't think of that," he admitted.

"Yang is having some fun, since she knows that the two of us..."

"Are interested in each other," he said, quietly, when she faltered.

"Yes," she admitted. "I think that we can both agree to that."

Ron nodded.

"You're a male, within the expected parameters," she assured him.

"Wait a minute," Ron looked defensive. "Define expected parameters."

"Okay, that's something that's the same between Earth and Remnant." Weiss quipped, with a roll of her eyes.

* * *

Yang was enjoying herself, spending time with Einsam in the older woman's study. While the Schnee matron's life was much different than the lives that her mother and stepmother had lived, much less the life she was likely to lead, she found it interesting. At least in small doses, it helped her to understand Weiss a little better.

She also liked the dress that Einsam had provided for her. While she wasn't much for formal wear, the dress looked a lot like the one Weiss had started to wear; formal but still flattering. Yang knew that she was pretty and liked to show it off. The seamstress had done a great job; the dress not only showed off her figure, it was comfortable and allowed freedom of movement.

She also liked the novelty of playing poker against the older woman, Rufus and a rat named Unscharf. This had been an even more odd experience than she had thought it would be; when Unscharf showed up, Rufus gave him a disapproving look and marched the other rat out of the room. A few minutes later, they had returned, with Unscharf being slightly damp and smelling faintly of shampoo. While the four of them played for peanuts, Ron paced about the room, trying to look calm but failing. When Weiss got home, he had clearly checked a clock and waited until leaving to meet her and discuss a few things. Einsam hadn't protested, and the two women had shared a smile between them.

Both Weiss and Ron had hard looks for her when they showed up, so Yang guessed that Ron had told Weiss that they weren't compatible. Sure that they wouldn't want to discuss this in front of Weiss' mother, Yang just grinned impudently at the two all through dinner. After the meal, she claimed to be tired, so that the two would just have to stew over her trick. She watched a little television, noting that the local news was announcing that the Schnee Dust Company and the Atlesian Military had scheduled an important press conference for the following afternoon. Deciding that tomorrow was going to be a rough day for her friends, she turned in early.

Again, pounding on the door woke her up.

"Take it easy," she shouted at the door. "What's got you so worked up two days in a row?"

"I don't appreciate the little anatomy lesson you gave Ron," Weiss' muffled growl sounded through the door. "Maybe if you used your energy to train and not to make up stories, you wouldn't need me waking you up!"

"Hey, if the two of you weren't having naughty thoughts about each other, it wouldn't have mattered!" Yang countered.

Since there was no reply, Yang decided that she had just scored another point that Weiss didn't have an answer to. Smiling, the golden-haired girl ducked into the bathroom. She was satisfied until the moment she took her seat, and felt the searing cold hit her backside. She couldn't help but yelp. Moments later, a thin, icy line rushed into the bathroom and to the toilet, bringing with it a buildup of ice that encased her lower body.

Yang struggled, but she was effectively locked onto the toilet.

"Weiss!" She roared. But the only answer was a muffled giggle, and the sound of heels on the stone floor, hurrying away down the hall.

* * *

 _A/N: As always, thanks go out to Joe Stoppinghem for beta-reading._


	3. Chapter 3

Weiss retained a straight, confident posture as she walked off of the stage, ignoring several shouted questions, and into the backstage area. She maintained this assertive posture and deliberate stride, her hand resting lightly on Ron's arm and aware of General Ironwood walking on her other side, until she reached the conference room. Once the door closed behind her, she allowed her shoulders to slump while her sigh of relief threatened to deflate her. She dropped into a chair and gratefully grabbed the bottle of water her mother offered her.

"It could have gone a lot worse," Yang pointed out. "In fact, I think it went pretty well. I thought all of your publicity people were being silly with all of the questions they were bringing up this morning, but they were right; the reporters asked the same questions and you were ready for them...mostly." If the golden-haired young woman held a grudge about having her posterior frozen to a toilet seat, she didn't show a sign.

Weiss flinched at her statement. There were few things that she admired about her father, but she had to admit that the man was much better at handling public situations than she would ever be. " _ _Why couldn't you have been just a little bit honorable?__ " She thought to herself. " _ _I could have kept you on as a PR director, or even a vice president. Your political agility and your insight on human nature could have been invaluable. The only problem was, you couldn't steer your life in a direction that wasn't destructive towards everyone in the end.__ _"_

" _ _Another thing, you always demanded perfection in efforts that were important to you,__ _"_ Weiss sighed internally. _"_ _ _Like Yang said, things could have gone a lot worse, but they could have gone better, as well.__ _"_

"So, the most important question is what do we do next?" Weiss asked the conference room, as she put her water bottle down. For a moment, the occupants exchanged glances with each other; Yang looked at her mother, who looked at General Ironwood, who looked at Dr. Physiker, who looked at Ron, who looked at her publicist, who looked at her. The silence lasted long enough to become awkward.

"We continue," Einsam finally announced. "We are still Schnee! We are still Atlesians! We do what we must!"

"Madame Schnee is correct," General Ironwood answered. "We deal with this crises by doing our duties...and mine is to defend Atlas and to train the new generation of huntsmen and huntresses."

"And my duty is to try to make sense of these wonderful materials that Mr. Stoppable has brought to this world," Dr. Physiker added.

"And my job is to make sure that the Schnee, both as a company and a family, are well regarded," the publicist mentioned.

"Man, I never thought that being famous could be such a trial," Yang admitted.

"We Atlesians are a conceited lot," the publicist, a middle-aged woman, grinned at the young woman from Vale. "Once you realize that, the job becomes a lot easier."

"So that's why you insisted we present the Mistralean doctor's findings before the Atlesians!" Weiss suddenly realized.

"Exactly," the woman allowed herself a slight smirk. "By stating what the Mistraleans had learned, then presenting the additional information gleaned from the Atlas Academy Medical Center, it played into Atlesian arrogance. Those reporters will present reports confirming that Mr. Stoppable is, indeed, from another world, because it points out that our medical professionals are at least a little better than those from Mistral."

"And the fact that our own medical doctors merely expanded upon the results that the Mistralean doctors had already obtained won't even come into question," Dr. Physiker pointed out. "Nor will the thought that I have had several weeks to examine the components of this bomb."

"Perhaps we should delay the self-congratulations and focus on those points that we didn't handle all that well," General Ironwood cautioned. "If any political or social enemies want to act upon this presentation, they will focus on them."

"The General is correct," the publicist agreed. "So, let us all deal with where the performance was weak."

"The questions about...our interactions," Weiss noted, with a timid glance towards Ron.

"Exactly," the woman nodded. "We had to throw this briefing together in haste; I'll admit that it was my idea, as the risk of insufficient preparation was less than the risk of people jumping to conclusions. However, Miss Schnee, you never did explain your relationship with Mr. Stoppable to me during our preparations."

"I thought I did a good job of sidestepping," Weiss informed him.

"You did," he nodded. "But you didn't fool anybody. Now, we're all friends here and you're eventually going to have to answer the direct question. What are your feelings towards Mr. Stoppable?"

"That's private!"

"Like it or not, you do not have a private life," the publicist told her. "You are the CEO of the Schnee Dust Company, the most powerful corporation on the face of Remnant, as well as the heiress of the Schnee fortune. Every move you make is subject to scrutiny. As for you, Mr. Stoppable, you are the only alien person on the face of this planet. Every move you make is going to be watched...for several reasons. As much as you should have a private life, you don't. Now, Miss Schnee, what are your feelings towards Mr. Stoppable?"

"Well..." Weiss looked at her mother's sympathetic expression, Yang's gleeful expression, Ron's nervous expression, and Ironwood's unreadable expression.

"No stalling!" The publicist told her. "You're among friends here!"

"I'm attracted to him," she admitted, now refusing to meet Ron's eyes.

"Mr. Stoppable?" The publicist asked the man in question.

"I'm attracted to her," he answered.

"There, was that so hard to admit?" The woman shook her head at the obvious irony. "Here we have a young woman of wealth and privilege, who instead of basking in comfort, chooses to undergo arduous training and risk her life for the people of Atlas and Mistral. We also have a young man from another world who, instead of taking in the comforts and fame such status could give him, chooses to risk his life for a world he barely knows. And now the fine young woman and this fine young man admit to a certain attraction to each other? How horrible! How will the kingdom survive if good young men and good young women start to show an interest in each other?"

"You've made your point," General Ironwood interrupted the rant, but he allowed a brief, faint smile to flit across his face. "Now, could you please tell those of us who aren't obsessed with public perception why you made it?"

"Of course," the woman allowed a self-assured smirk to cross her face, giving her a look somewhere between a smug boss and an arrogant professor. "Miss Schnee and Mr. Stoppable are correct in saying that this is a personal matter. However, some of the reporters, and citizens, are going to want to pry. Now that the two of them have admitted, openly, that they are attracted to each other, they will be ready for this prying." She looked at the two she had just mentioned. "Defend your privacy, but realize that it can be breached and be ready for such an invasion."

"Good advice," Einsam admitted. "But what actions do you suggest we take now?"

"Go on with your lives," she told them. "Show everyone that you are not ashamed, but be prepared. Know that people are going to ask you such questions at times you won't be ready for careful answers, so know in advance what you're willing to admit."

"Excellent," Einsam nodded. "I will, of course, schedule another party and invite my peers to meet Mr. Stoppable, this time as someone from beyond Remnant. A formal setting, in which the upper class can speak to him directly, will show that we have nothing to hide."

"Excellent!"

"And I'll help with the missions that General Ironwood spoke about," Yang added. "At least until Beacon is ready to start classes again. That will show that I'm not just sponging off of the Schnees' generosity."

"Being public and seen is the way to go," the publicist agreed. "But for now, go home and relax. I understand that you have to deal with a rather rebellious and treacherous son."

"Indeed," Einsam noted. "Mr. Stoppable has an idea which may be harsh, but should show Whitley that there are penalties to pay for betraying family. "

"I'll meet with you at a later date," she told the matron. "But I'd appreciate it if you will speak to me before announcing the party. I'm sure I can be of use."

"Of course," Einsam told her.

"If you're done with me, I'd like to head back to my laboratory," Dr. Physiker told the rest. "There is so much research to do on these new materials."

"Indeed," the general nodded to the older woman. "And thank you for your time and expertise."

"Headmaster, there's someone who would like to meet you," Ron showing a great deal of nervousness, addressed the imposing man. "She has a proposition for you...as a headmaster not a general...and it could be to your benefit."

"Oh," Ironwood was slightly curious. "You've met someone with a new invention, or perhaps someone who has a new tactic?"

"Nothing so dramatic," the young man from Earth stretched the collar of his Atlas Academy uniform...and promptly received a sharp slap on the wrist from Weiss. "She's on the academy grounds and...it has to do with upkeep of the facilities...and you sort of have to meet her before I can explain the offer."

"I suppose I could take a few minutes at this time," Ironwood mused. "If she's available."

"Oh yes!" Ron assured him. "She's...really flexible in her hours. It's down towards the older part of the campus."

While everyone else in the room looked curious, Weiss had an expression of horrified amusement. His curiosity definitely piqued, Ironwood instructed Ron to lead him to his associate.

An advantage of holding the press conference on the Academy Campus was that Ironwood was able to exercise some control on the number of reporters present, and how long they could stay afterwards. Since Atlas was very much a law-and-order type of kingdom, the reporters had shown up at the appointed time and had left, with only slight encouragement from campus security, after the press conference was over. Because of this, there were no lingering media representatives to see the headmaster, accompanied by Weiss, Ron and Yang, as they strolled through the campus towards the older buildings, one of which held clandestine quarters for unofficial guests. Ron made a point to knock on a specific drain pipe, before leading the group to a bench.

"So where is this lady?" Ironwood asked. While he was intrigued, he didn't have a great deal of spare time.

Before Ron could reply, a rustling sounded in a nearby bush.

"Here she is," Ron told the older man. The boy extended a foot towards the bush, allowing a rat to run up his leg and perch on his shoulder.

"Pelz?" Weiss asked.

"Exactly," Ron answered.

"We have rats on the campus?" Ironwood demanded.

"Headmaster, there aren't may places that don't have rats," Ron told him. "They're very intelligent and adaptable...which is why Pelz has an offer for you."

"You want me to make a deal with a rat?" Ironwood's good humor was quickly evaporating.

"Headmaster, this rat breached your security," Ron told him. "I think that means she's due some respect and consideration."

"What?"

"We spied on you by having Pelz place scrolls in your office, and in Dr. Physiker's," Weiss told the general. "And probably a few places that I don't know about."

"One rat managed to infiltrate multiple points?" Ironwood was both incredulous...and somewhat respectful.

"No," Ron corrected. "She subcontracted, but that just goes to show how organized she can be. She's offering three things; first, she and her mischief will remain neat and tidy, not harming the buildings, food, and other materials that are stored here."

"Second," Ron continued, before the general could voice his skepticism. "They will report damages to the buildings and other infrastructure. They're everywhere, general, so they know where the leaks and flaws are at."

"Rats are smart enough to know about damaged buildings?" Ironwood scowled at him.

"They know when water is present where it shouldn't be," Ron answered. "As well as exposed metal. They can sniff out termites and other burrowing pests. I'm not a handyman, but I know that it's a lot easier and cheaper to take care of damages when you catch them early."

"And the third offer?" To his credit, the general sounded just as intrigued as he was bemused.

"They will either eliminate or subjugate the other mischiefs on the campus," Ron told him. "They will provide you with a campus in which all rodents are allied with you. Should you accept this offer, the only rodents on campus will be your allies."

For several moments, the headmaster could only look at the younger man. Finally...

"And what will the rats expect in return?" He finally asked.

"Food and medical attention," Ron answered. "They don't eat much and you have a veterinary school right here on the campus. Even after her mischief subjugates all of the rats living on these grounds, you'll spend considerably less than what you're now spending on pest-control. Not only do you spend less, you'll have an early lead on necessary repairs an other things that shouldn't be there."

"Other things?"

"If I can set recording devices in your office, why couldn't a good spy do the same thing?" Ron asked him. "Or other places on the campus? The rats get around, they know what should and shouldn't be in the walls, above the ceilings or under the floors. Sure, they aren't technical experts, but they can let you focus your attention on where it needs to be...additional eyes, ears and noses throughout this campus."

"I can't believe that I'm seriously considering buying into a rat protection racket," Ironwood shook his head. In reaction, Pelz sat up on her hind legs and squeaked into Ron's ear.

"Pelz has already found plumbing leaks in two buildings," Ron announced, once Pelz was done speaking. The rat crossed her forearms and fixed the headmaster with a stern, if somewhat beady, glare. "She's willing to let you know where they are, to sweeten the deal."

Several expressions warred for possession of James Ironwood's face, Ron clearly saw disbelief, frustration, outrage and contemplation take the dominant position, only to be overthrown by another. Finally, resignation took over and maintained control.

"Work up the amount of food and number of rats to be cared for," he finally said. He didn't know if he should be addressing Ron or Pelz. "Send it to me tomorrow, along with the location of the plumbing leaks, and I'll give you my answer. I need to get back to work." Without waiting for a reply, he strode purposefully towards the administration building.

"He's going to go for it," Ron said, very confident, once the man was out of earshot. "It's hard to say no to someone as cute as Pelz."

"Uh, Ron," Weiss asked, clearly wondering if she really wanted to hear the answer. "I don't suppose Rufus had something to do with this deal, did he?"

"Well, yeah," Ron shrugged. "He doesn't like to see rodents living as parasites."

"We saw him running rats at my home through martial arts drills," she pointed out.

"Yeah."

"I don't suppose you're going to wind up offering the same sort of deal to my mother, are you?"

"Well, I'm working through Kline," Ron admitted. "But your mother is very fond of Unscharf, so she'll probably agree."

Weiss could only shake her head. "Maybe we should just go home."

In response, Pelz squeaked into Ron's ear again.

"If it's okay, Pelz would like to come along and visit her brother," he translated.

"Why not?" Weiss rolled her eyes. "I have a feeling that all of Atlas is going to be answering to rats before too much longer, why not be sociable?"

* * *

"Okay, I don't understand this," Weiss admitted, as Kline pushed a cart out of the kitchen and down the hallway towards the bedroom wing. "That food smells a little unusual, but not bad. In fact, it smells tasty. If we hadn't already eaten, I'd ask for a taste."

Ron, who was savagely scrubbing at his hands with a towel, looked at her with a horrified expression.

"Please, don't say that!" He gasped. "Trust me, you'll understand in a little while."

"Hey, we aren't fainting daisies, or something like that," Yang challenged him. "I know what goes into sausage, so it won't bother me."

"Please, don't make me describe it more than once," he begged them. "Let's just let your brother eat his dinner, then I'll tell him what it was, what went into it, and how it was cooked." He shuddered. "He should be okay...he won't have anyone forcing seconds onto him." He took a shuddering breath. "I didn't have a choice...back then."

"Okay, why don't we talk about the missions we're going to be accepting?" Yang suggested, as the three made their way to a comfortable sitting room. "General Ironwood's text said that he'd have us doing missions a lot like you guys did with Flynt and Neon. Care to fill me in a little?"

"Mostly, we did hit and run missions," Ron shrugged. "We would go out to an abandoned village and tangle with whatever grimm we could find, while someone from the academy observed. They would tell us what to do better."

"That was it?" Yang asked. "You just fought for observation?"

"Well, I guess we cleared some of the villages," he mused.

"And we kept the grimm away from Atlas proper," Weiss added. "Our instructors never came out and told us this, but we did."

"Yeah...I figured that out," Ron grumbled.

"So, what kind of reviews did you get?" Yang

"Let's see," Ron murmured, pulling out his scroll and searching through the menus. "So much has happened since then...here we go. The observer felt our teamwork was sufficient, but our planning needed work."

"We only knew about the mission that morning!" Weiss protested, after she determined which mission was being referenced. "We didn't have time to plan!"

"According to the observer, we should have made some general plans, then adapted them to the situation," Ron continued reading.

"Yeah, we worked on that, didn't we?" Weiss commented.

"The observer also stated that I needed some form of ranged weapon," Ron noted. "She said that as long as I only had melee capabilities, I would be something of a burden upon my teammates."

"That's not right!" Weiss fumed. "You're a powerful addition to any team!" Gaining control of her temper, she continued in a quieter tone. "Even though the comment is valid...and you still haven't addressed it."

"Why not?" Yang asked. "I mean, you've had plenty of time and you've been around plenty of experts who could have made the modifications to your tonfa. You modified one to include a grapple, so why haven't you modified the other to include a gun?"

"It...just...seems like something that's not what I am," Ron answered, now looking at the floor.

"Why?" Yang asked. "What are you?"

"I'm someone who isn't used to killing or maiming people," Ron protested. "I don't like hurting people...permanently."

"Do you think I do?" Weiss demanded. "It's sometimes a necessity!"

"How did it get like this?" Ron asked, but the question was directed to the air, to someone that Yang and Weiss couldn't see. "I remember going out on the missions; we never carried guns...never carried weapons other than the knockout gas. We went up against mad scientists with take-over-the-world schemes, but we never had to kill anyone. We never had to really hurt anyone."

"What were the stakes?" Weiss asked. "Name one of the missions when you went up against a mad scientist."

"I don't understand the question," Ron admitted.

"I didn't phrase it very well," Weiss told him. "From the conversations we've had about Earth, I believe that there are many more people on Earth than there are on Remnant."

"The population is in the billions," Ron agreed.

"And don't some of your...what is it that you have instead of kingdoms?"

"Countries," Ron answered.

"Don't some of you countries have armed forces larger than one of our cities?"

"Probably," he admitted.

"So you weren't fighting for the same stakes there as you are here," she pointed out. "Okay, name one of the missions when you went up against this...Drakken...character," Weiss continued.

"There was this time he built a swarm of killer robots...he called them destructo-bots," Ron recalled. "But he wasn't all that good at programming them for unsupervised combat, so he kidnapped a robotics expert to fix his glitches. That's when we found out about his plan and stopped him before he turned them loose on the world."

"Ron," Weiss now used a tone of patience with him. "I'm sure that if those robots got loose, a lot of people would have been hurt or killed, but would your civilization...would the human race on Earth have been threatened?"

"But hundreds of people..." Ron tried to say.

"Ron, I'm not trying to say that a human life on Earth is worth less that a human life on Remnant," Weiss interrupted him. "But could those destructo-bots have been able to crush your kingd...er...country?"

"No," Ron admitted, after thinking for a short time. "While the local police couldn't have stopped them, the National Guard could have, and they would have never stood up to the regular military."

"I don't know the terms," Weiss reminded him. "But I believe that I've made my point. If you and Kim were to fail your mission...even if you would have paid with your lives, your civilization would have survived. Even if millions of people had died, your own country had over three hundred million citizens! On Remnant, there are four kingdoms, the Island of Menagerie, and vulnerable towns and villages in between. If we fail in a mission, the City of Atlas might be at risk."

"With Vale crippled, Atlas is clearly the most powerful kingdom," Weiss continued. "And the City of Atlas holds the majority of the scientific and manufacturing capacity. If we fail, Atlas may fall, one of just four, remaining kingdoms will be gone. We don't have the luxury of the morality you and...Kim...displayed. When we go into a battle, we have to do what we have to do."

"Maybe we're being a little hypocritical," Yang joined the conversation. "Remember the fight on the subway between Mountain Glen and Vale? We couldn't bring ourselves to actually kill any of the White Fang, but we knocked them off of the train, knowing that the grimm would shred them."

"But the point I am making remains valid," Weiss sniffed back. "We used every asset at our disposal; dust, lethal weapons and training, because we knew that if we didn't, Vale was in danger, as was the entire kingdom. We didn't try to capture the White Fang, we eliminated them in the most efficient way that we could."

"These are the stakes that we are dealing with," she now addressed Ron.

"I know," Ron know looked almost defeated.

"What's wrong?" Yang demanded. "I thought she made a good point."

"She did," Ron agreed. "But it's just seems that I'm giving up something of me by changing." He took a deep breath. "I know that I'm a resident of Remnant now, but do I have to give up everything that I was before?"

Neither of the young man's companions had an answer for him. There was an awkward silence as all three wondered how to break the deadlock. Fortunately, Kline interrupted the tense moment.

"Master Whitley is finished dining," the efficient butler announced. A professional, he did not mention the tension he must have noticed. "He enjoyed two helpings."

"That's good," Ron nodded. "Or maybe bad. I guess it's time to teach him the meaning of betrayal."

"It is," Weiss nodded. "And I'm coming along with you."

"That might not be a good idea," Ron told her.

"Ron, I'm not some pampered princess," she protested. "I can handle the bad news."

"Same here!" Yang chimed in. "You've managed to make me curious. That food smelled pretty good."

"In thirty minutes, I want you both to remember that you insisted on this," Ron grumbled, then followed Weiss towards her brother's room.

The heiress was prepared, making a call to her brother to make sure that he was available to talk. She understood the need to keep the younger Schnee off-balance. Upon calling him, she simply activated his door lock and barged in, Ron and Yang right behind her. The boy had a certain style, sitting at his desk and turning to face the three.

"Yes, dear sister?" He calmly inquired, showing the expression of a boy facing a question about his latest essay, rather than an enraged sibling with the training and motivation to eviscerate him.

"There seems to be a disconnect between logic and morality here," Weiss announced to him. "Your actions were logical, as long as your goal was to strengthen your position as the heir to the Schnee Dust Company and the Schnee fortune. Yet you failed to act in a moral manner, in a way that will encourage those around you to continue to place their trust in you. Such trust is vital, both for a huntress and a CEO of a major corporation."

Whitley simply listened, an expression of slightly bored amusement on his face.

"Perhaps the fault lies with our father, or perhaps with myself," Weiss continued. "For all of his experience, father never had to deal with peers; people with an equal standing in a shared endeavor. When he married mother, he gained the CEO position of the most powerful company on Remnant and with our grandfather's good reputation. He never had to earn trust, so he never taught us how to do so. Winter and myself had to learn this during our huntress' training. In my case, it was a hard lesson to learn, but one that I cherish."

"Then again, father might not be at fault," Weiss continued, now taking on the aspect of a lecturing professor, not a young woman facing her betrayer. "After all, trust is an intangible asset; it cannot be measured, weighed or valued. How does trust appear on a balance sheet? How does one calculate its worth, so that the amount of tangible assets, time and money, needed to gain it can be profitably allocated?"

"A mystery, isn't it, dear sister?" Whitley's voice was dripping with false sympathy.

"Indeed," she answered. "Since I cannot place a value on trust; I can only determine when the trust that I placed in someone was misplaced. Furthermore, it is both logical and reasonable to insure that whomever betrayed my trust feels betrayal in return, so that he will factor this sensation into his future actions."

"Ah, here we get to the reason for this visit," now Whitley showed an expression of relieved boredom. "And why you chose to bring two companions with you. I can assure you, dear sister, that I have obtained no secret training during my internship. You are perfectly capable of crushing me yourself, so the threats you are about to deliver would have been just as dire had it been just the two of us. There was no need to bring outsiders into a family disagreement."

"Very rich, coming from someone who chose to involve the tabloid press in this family disagreement!" Weiss snapped; then quickly regained her composure. "No, younger brother, I'm not here to threaten you, I'm merely here to educate you. You have never experienced betrayal, so it's my duty as your older sibling to expand your horizons."

"What are you going to do to betray me?" He asked, now with a slight sneer of superiority. "Are you going to drive out father and displace me as the heir? Are you going to take me away from my studies, which were designed to prepare me to be an effective heir and in which I was performing admirably, and force me into an internship more beneficial to one who will never rise above the position of factory manager? Are you going to place the future of the company and the family in your hands, which have been trained to be a huntress, rather than in the hands of someone who was being educated to be a CEO? I'm afraid you've already done them, so it appears you will need to resort to physical violence upon my person."

"No," Weiss now shook her head, showing an indulgent and slightly amused smile. "I'm afraid that you are mistaking discipline for betrayal. Your internship, which father approved of, I may add, was designed to give you a greater insight into the labor required to support the company, as well as give you a glimpse into the lives of those who perform it. You see, discipline is designed to improve the recipient, even though the process may not be enjoyable. Betrayal is designed to harm the recipient, either physically, emotionally, socially or financially, for the instigator's gain."

"Ah," he nodded back. "So I'm about to experience some harm. As you've brought two, rather powerful companions, I'm assuming that I'm about to be subjected to physical damage, that will somehow not be visible. Shall we begin?"

"I'm afraid that you are wrong, once again," Weiss smiled a predatory grin at him. "You've already experienced the betrayal...you just don't know it yet. Mister Stoppable personally prepared the dinner that you recently enjoyed. I brought him along so that he can describe it."

"It was a dish called haggis," Ron told the younger boy. "It comes from a place on Earth known for its highlands, and the fierce and hardy folk who live there. To make it, one takes a sheep's..."

Weiss concluded that Whitley had inherited some of their grandfather's toughness. The boy didn't bolt for the bathroom upon learning the ingredients...one in particular...of the dish he had just eaten. He turned slightly green, but he held his ground. It wasn't until Ron described the cooking process that the boy suddenly ran for the bathroom.

"Was that the truth?" Yang asked Ron. Weiss noted that the brawler had gone rather pale. Weiss was certain that if she didn't already have a fair complexion, she would have turned white as a sheet, herself. "Did you really make...that? And is it really something that gets eaten on your world?"

"Yes," Ron answered. "The folks from those highlands have a well-deserved reputation as fearless warriors. For a long time, I thought that they were charging their enemies. It wasn't the case; they were really running away from their food."

"I think that it's time to let Whitley think about what he did," Weiss decided. "And contemplate betrayal. Mother is waiting, and would appreciate some company after everything that has happened today."

The three left Whitley's rooms, and the sound of his retching, behind. Weiss led them to a comfortable sitting room, where the Schnee matron sat in an overstuffed chair, using a projected screen to play a card game against a rat. For a moment, the three young people took in the scene, seeing Einsam enjoying herself.

"I note that Unscharf has started to wash and groom very carefully," Weiss noted.

"That's something that Rufus insisted on," Ron answered. "He thinks that dirty rats give all rodents a bad image."

"I can't believe that this conversation is taking place!" Yang complained. "The richest person on Remnant is playing poker against a rat while we talk about its bathing habits!"

"He...not it," Ron insisted.

"And he cheats at pinochle," Weiss added.

"But still...a rat?"

"A very clean and well mannered rat," Ron pointed out.

"Ah, my daughter and her companions!" Einsam noticed the younger three hovering at the entrance to the room. "Please join us!"

"Us?" Yang asked, in a quiet voice.

"Rats grow on you," Ron answered. "They're very social."

"Mr. Stoppable," the matron addressed the young man, once all were seated. "While you would only provide me with a very vague idea of how you were going to teach my son the feeling of betrayal, I must ask, have you done so?"

"Yes," Ron said, with a shudder. "I'm not proud of what I did, but it could have been worse."

"Worse?" Weiss gasped. "What could have been worse?"

"It could have been Rocky Mountain Oysters," Ron told them, his face serious. "Or kimchi or even, the ultimate evil; lutefisk."

"I don't know about the last two," Weiss admitted. "But oysters? Just what could you do to shellfish that would..."

"Weiss!" Yang interrupted. "I don't think we want to know."

Seeing Ron's pale face, Weiss agreed.

"Well, since we've decided to deal with unpleasantness later, would the three of you like to join us for a couple of hands?" Einsam asked. "I have plenty of peanuts to wager."

"If you don't mind me asking, what happened to Rufus and Pelz?" Ron asked her. He settled into a chair and accepted a handful of peanuts to bet with.

"Rufus and Unscharf here presented me with their offer," Einsam told him. "And I must say that it is a very intriguing proposal. The spreadsheet presentation of the cost/benefit analysis was particularly well done."

"Spreadsheet?" Yang whispered.

"You probably don't want to know," Weiss whispered back, then nudged her larger friend to a seat. Bemused, the brawler accepted a handful of peanuts while Weiss took her own chair and Einsam continued to explain.

"We spent half of an hour debating the tribute I would pay," the matron explained, while keying the tabletop scroll to deal to five. "However, their offer was most logical, so I only demanded slight modifications before accepting."

"So, we are going to have a pack of rats living in our mansion?" Weiss demanded.

"We already do," Einsam pointed out, while perusing the cards she had been dealt. "And the proper term is 'mischief'. This way, I will gain some control over them, receive minor services from them, and still expend fewer resources than I was trying to exterminate them." She placed two peanuts on the table.

"Could you detail some of the modifications you required?" Weiss asked, as she matched her mother's ante.

"Of course. I will have appropriate attire prepared for them, and they will present themselves for my review every day, in Schnee livery."

"You're going to dress the rats?" Yang was dumbfounded, but matched the ante, as did Unscharf.

"Only for formal events," Einsam corrected her. "They are free to live their lives clad in their own fur, but when they meet with me, they will be properly groomed and attired."

"So you also required them to bathe," Ron concluded, also chipping in two peanuts.

"Actually, Rufus had already required that," Einsam told him. "Your companion doesn't like rodents to be dirty."

"He thinks it gives them all a bad reputation," Ron agreed with her, as the five selected their cards for discard and redraw.

"We have all become somewhat distracted," Weiss pointed out, once everyone had their new cards. "I believe that Ron asked what had become of Rufus and Pelz."

"Oh, how silly of me," Einsam tossed in another peanut. "After coming to the agreement, Pelz asked Rufus to show her around the warrens. Apparently, she has forwarded a similar offer to Headmaster Ironwood and would like to see if Unscharf's warrens are more discrete than her own. Rufus said that he would meet back up with Mr. Stoppable, in his quarters, tonight."

"Rufus does like his sleep," Ron agreed.

The first hand was rather tame, with Weiss winning the pot. However, starting with the second hand, Unscharf showed everyone just how clever and brutal a rat could be at bluffing.

* * *

Rufus had been a little suspicious when Pelz showed up at the Schnee Estate, but he agreed to walk her through the warrens beneath the mansion and the burrows in the gardens. She seemed curious, but was clearly distracted, as if she were going through the motions. While they were reviewing the pathways the rats used to get between the floors of the mansion, she asked him to take her to the roof.

This was a risky move for rats, as the skies above Atlas held hawks and eagles. Still, Rufus led her first to the attic and then to one of the vents, where they could look out over the city while still being safe from aerial predators. It was a view that was mostly lost on Rufus; while exposure to Mystical Monkey Power had improved him in numerous ways, naked mole rat's didn't have very keen eyesight. Still, he was able to see enough to understand why she brought him here. Suddenly, he was the one that was thinking too small.

She pointed to the other mansions in the area, then down to the manufacturing and business districts. She described the housing for the middle and lower income citizens, then the dozens of ships in the harbor, although he could only see fuzzy images of the last. She pointed out that every building, every ship had rats; rats that the humans were trying to exterminate, but who could be working with the humans, instead. He looked at her, curiously.

She pointed out that she wasn't some peacemaker, seeking to bring understanding between rodent and human. Instead, she was looking out for herself. The two of them could broker agreements between the humans and rats, then claim a reasonable cut of the tribute. For some reason, her admission that she was acting in her own self interest made Rufus feel much better about the proposal, even if her methods disturbed him. Of all the evils that had traveled from Earth to Remnant, modern assault weapons, nuclear warheads, and even haggis, perhaps multi-level marketing was the worst. Still, it had the potential of being mutually beneficial, so he led the way to Ron's suite to do some research.

As much as Rufus missed Earth, he had to admit that the people on Remnant did some things better. For instance, the various models of scrolls were faster and easier to use than any of the computers or smart phones he had encountered on Earth. The desk in Ron's suite had a built in scroll that projected an interactive image which could be customized to any size...even to one convenient for a naked mole rat. Atlas also had better short-range communications, so they had never developed efficient data storage, preferring to keep data in centralized banks. This meant that even more data was freely available for review. Rufus was able to search for data faster than he could have on Earth.

It took him some time, but he managed to track down the income reports from a couple of shipping companies and several independent ships. While some of them had lumped the costs for pest control in with maintenance, others had itemized these costs, allowing Rufus to get a baseline for the amount a typical ship, adjusted for tonnage and based upon the cargo carried, spent to keep the rat population under control. He then contrasted this with the cost to maintain a small rat population on such vessels. As he suspected, both parties would benefit as long as both parties went into such an agreement in good faith.

He looked back to Pelz, who was lounging on Ron's bed. This time, he was the contrite one, as he was the one who had limited his vision. While he had hoped to foster a proper relationship between those people and institutions associated with Ron, she had seen farther, to a planet-wide partnership...all while taking a reasonable cut of the benefits. She took his apology with good grace, pointing out that he would have to train the elite, rat fighting force and be the chief enforcer to make sure that the rodents lived up to their side of the bargain.

While Rufus assured her that he would do so, she got an odd, yet familiar look in her eyes. While rat communication consisted of sniffing and posturing as much as verbalizing, she started to sniff and nuzzle a great deal more than normal, leaving him stuttering in multiple forms of communication, all at the same time. This time, he didn't argue against what she wanted to do. After all, her scent was almost as enticing as Bueno Nacho cheese, her fur was soft and inviting and the act hadn't harmed him the last time.

Unfortunately, the activity proved to be very distracting. Rufus was usually hyper-aware of his surroundings and he suspected that Pelz was, as well. After all, small creatures who don't pay attention tend to be eliminated very quickly. Somehow, with his mind already spinning with the thoughts of a primate/rodent partnership that even Earth hadn't considered, with her scent in his nose and the feel of her fur making his senses reel, he didn't notice the sounds of footsteps in the hall. He didn't even notice the sound of the door opening. He only realized what was happening when her heard Ron's voice.

"Hey buddy what...are...you..." Ron's voice stammered to a halt while Rufus blushed from the tip of his nose to his tail and scrambled away from the other rat. Pelz didn't react, other than to look confused at him, wondering why he had stopped.

For a long few seconds, Ron struggled to comprehend what he had just seen. Finally, he found his voice.

"Rufus! You...Pelz...on MY bed...AW MAN, YOU HAVE TO BE KIDDING ME!"

* * *

 _A/N: Again, thanks to everyone who's been reading this little journey through my imagination. Big thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for his beta reading._


	4. Chapter 4

Yang was in a very good mood. She hadn't realized how much sitting around, playing poker with friends, her friend's mother, and a rat could be. Of course, that hadn't been the limit of the activities. Einsam had led them to the ballroom and had played some formal dance music over the sound system. The older woman had first insisted that Weiss and Ron dance...and Yang had to admit that the two looked good together.

After that, the matron gave the brawler some instruction. While Yang liked to dance, she was more into the uninhibited, free type...yet she found that there was something to the formalized steps...sort of like a kata. In the end, she realized that she had been given some very subtle instructions, for a formal reception that Einsam was undoubtedly planning. Yang didn't care, she was happy and ready to get some sleep when Ron's soprano shriek sent her running towards his suite.

She arrived at roughly the same time that Weiss did, to see Ron standing in the hall and staring into his room.

"What's wrong?" Weiss demanded of her semi-permanent guest.

"He...her...my..." Ron could only stammer, pointing through the door. Weiss and Yang, as one, looked inside.

They saw Rufus, blushing a bright pink and Pelz, who appeared to be bemused, sitting on Ron's bed. Prompted by the young man's outrage, Yang looked closer and noticed that there was a divot, in one of the pillows, marring the bed covering's straight lines.

"So the rats were napping on your pillow," Yang shrugged. "They're clean and you let them ride on your shoulder all the time. What's the big deal?"

"They weren't sleeping with each other!" Ron snapped. "They were... _ _sleeping with each other__!"

Okay, that made about as much sense as a typical teenage boy. Yang was used to it; she knew that she was a stunner, so she was used to the younger male set having trouble selecting the right words whenever she was around. However, she had become somewhat less used to this behavior in the last year or so, as most student huntsmen had grown out of the "OMG" phase. Besides that, she had never seen Ron act like that.

"What do you mean?" Weiss interrupted. "Were they sleeping or not?"

The distraction proved just long enough for Yang to add things up. The furiously blushing Rufus, Ron being shocked and angry about what was happening on his bed...and his reluctance to come out and say what it was. It also appeared that Earth was the same as Remnant, and the phrase 'sleeping together' could mean sleeping in the same bed, or it could mean...

"Were they...mating?" She asked him.

"Well...yes."

"So what's the big deal?" Yang asked.

"There's rat lust on my pillow!"

"There's no mess!" Weiss pointed out. "And you have three more!"

"It's more a mental thing," Ron insisted. "I saw it happening so..."

"Maybe Weiss will be a proper hostess and let you crash with her tonight," Yang smirked at them.

Both Weiss and Ron promptly blushed.

"Maybe the two of you can re-enact it." The brawler continued.

"I think that's about enough of this," Weiss declared. "Ron, if you want fresh bedding, I'll contact Kline. If not, it's very late, it's been a very long day and tomorrow doesn't promise to be any shorter."

"I'll...be fine," Ron sighed. "It just sort of caught me by surprise, y'know?"

"Yeah, I would have probably been shocked, as well." Yang admitted, then her sense of humor re-asserted itself. "It looks like Rufus is adapting to Remnant just fine!"

Rufus blushed even brighter, Pelz looked even more confused, and Ron and Weiss looked uncomfortable. This didn't bother Yang one bit...she liked keeping her friends off-balance...but then she had a moment of serious thought. Even more uncharacteristic for her, she kept it to herself.

"I'm turning in," Yang finally told everyone else, but she made a mental note to have a word with Ron, as soon as she could get him alone in the morning.

"Are you going to be okay here?" Weiss asked Ron.

"Yeah," he said. "Rufus can escort Pelz to her brother's warren for the night." He gave both rats a hard look. "I'll have none of _those_ activities going on here while I'm trying to sleep." Again, Rufus displayed a full-body blush while Pelz seemed to wonder what all of the fuss was about.

Once everyone had left, Ron put the pillow in question on a chair for the night, then got into his pajamas. With the guilt of having just unleashed haggis onto an unsuspecting Remnant, as well as the emotional shock of seeing his little buddy mating on his pillow, he wasn't quite ready for bed. Instead, he sat lotus-style and attempted to meditate, as he had learned at Yamanouchi. His mind wandered, and he wondered; how long it had been since he had tried to attune himself with the MMP?

He remembered doing so shortly after getting to Atlas; his hands had been injured in the fight he had fallen into and his meditation had healed him faster. He remembered meditating after the fight against the bandits, as he had been severely shook up about it. Then there was an evening on the ship between Anima and Sanus, when he had first started to come to grips with the idea that he wasn't just on another world, he was in a different reality. After that, things had been so busy that he didn't recall doing so.

An embarrassed grimace came over his face; while his aura didn't help heal the contusions it inflicted on him when he was back on Earth, he could have utilized his mystical monkey power! It was so obvious that he hadn't considered it! Now with a purpose, he closed his eyes and concentrated upon the power that had helped him defeat Fiske and Fukishima, that had allowed him to save the Earth. He felt the link form, felt the power join with him and flow through him...but it was different.

The contusions over his body, which had already healed a great deal, did not vanish. Frowning, he concentrated again and focused on completely surrendering himself to the power. Again, it flowed into him, but not as fully as he had become accustomed to. He shrugged his shoulders; meditation was a skill and if he didn't practice regularly, he became less capable. Still, he should have experienced some healing from this. Now feeling a little concern, he relocated to a point in front of a mirror and concentrated once again.

This time, when he felt the power flow into him, he opened his eyes and observed himself in the mirror. His body glowed a light blue, but a brown-tinged illumination quickly obscured the blue. Again, his contusions did not heal. Now feeling greater concern, he fetched one of his tonfa, set in on the floor between himself and the mirror, and concentrated once again. He remembered the feel when he captured Fukishima; how stones floated into the air as he drew the MMP into himself. He recalled gesturing towards the Lowardian Walkers, lifting them into the air and crushing them without touching them. He focused his will on the weapon and once again, a blue glow appeared, only to be overwhelmed by brown light.

The tonfa didn't move.

His next attempt was interrupted by Rufus' return. The naked mole rat slipped in through the door, which Ron had left slightly ajar, and regarded the young man with a somewhat sheepish expression.

"There's something more important to deal with, buddy," Ron told him. "My MMP isn't working right, let's see if yours is."

Rufus had always been better at levitating than he had been. In fact, the only time Ron actually levitated was when he had also destroyed the Lowardian Walkers. He tried again, centering his thoughts and picturing himself floating into the air. Looking in the mirror again, he saw the brown light swirling around his body while Rufus glowed blue and rose from the floor.

The next test was telekinesis. Ron had always been better at Rufus in using this aspect, so this would be telling. He fetched his other tonfa, set one in front of Rufus and the other in front of himself. Both concentrated on moving his respective weapon. Again, Ron sneaked a peek in the mirror. Rufus glowed blue again, while a brown light infused his own body. His tonfa didn't move while Rufus' shifted, slightly.

Finally, Ron decided to test strength. He didn't know how much his bed weighed, but it was a king-sized with a very solid, wooden frame. Reaching down, he took a quick breath to channel the power and easily lifted it off of the floor. He didn't tire while holding it up, and Rufus chittered at him that his eyes were blue. Carefully, he set the heavy piece of furniture back on the floor. Next was Rufus' turn. Ron asked the small fellow to try to lift an overstuffed chair. The mole rat slithered under the piece of furniture and moments later, it lifted a few inches off of the ground. Dropping to the floor, Ron looked under the chair and noted that Rufus' eyes were glowing blue.

Ron sat on his bed while the chair returned to the floor, then Rufus slithered out from under it and joined his friend.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Ron asked him. Rufus squeaked in response.

"No," Ron shook his head. "I'm not thinking that Remnant's computers are better than Earth's, but Earth's cheese is better than Remnant's. I'm thinking that my aura is interfering with the Mystical Monkey Power."

Rufus cocked his head to one side and squeaked again.

"Look at what we just did," Ron pointed out. "I couldn't move objects with it, while you could. I couldn't levitate, and you could. I have an active aura, and you don't."

Rufus squeaked at him some more.

"Yes, I still have the strength and I'll check my agility tomorrow on the training course."

More squeaks.

"I know that the scientific method says that I should activate your aura and see if you lose the levitation and telekinesis, but I have another idea."

Rufus looked at him, curiously.

"I want you to see if you can make the MMP act like an aura; see if it builds a little force field around you when you fight and if you develop something like a semblance."

Rufus tilted his head again.

"Dr. Physiker said that Earth's universe had materials that Remnant's doesn't, but Remnant's has energies that Earth's doesn't," Ron pointed out. "What if that means that the ol' MMP can do thing here that it couldn't do on Earth?"

The rat squeaked again.

"But if I'm right and my aura is messing with my MMP, then we can't have it do the same to you," he explained. "We need someone who has the full MMP, and that has to be you, since I can't be it any more."

Ron's face dropped into a frown over his last statement, but he tried to keep his spirits up. Still, he couldn't sleep that night, but kept thinking and meditating...coming to some conclusions that didn't make him very happy.

* * *

Rufus watched his oldest and closest friend as he struggled to relax. First, he would try to sleep and then he would try to meditate. The naked mole rat knew that even though he was far more intelligent than any rodent he had ever met, that he was smarter than most primates, he simply couldn't understand the emotional issues that his friend was going through.

Rats formed groups called mischiefs, and looked out for and supported each other...much like humans. Rufus was very happy to find out that Ron had made friends here in Remnant, but he struggled to understand why he didn't mate with the doe, Weiss, when the two of them clearly wanted to mate with each other. From a logical standpoint, he realized that the act of reproduction was more complicated for humans than rodents; since humans' pups took so long to mature, the bucks and does had to form bonds that would last for years and mating played a part. Since Ron had graduated from high school, Rufus had learned, to his shock, that most of the times that humans mated they weren't trying to have pups.

He had come to understand the situation after studying it; part of the humans' mating behavior was determining the suitability of their potential mates for long term bonding, even if the humans weren't aware that they were doing so. On Earth, Kim and Ron had determined that they were compatible for a long term bond, even to the point where they were willing to separate for several months at a time so that they could live a more comfortable life, together, in the future. Although it wasn't the way a rat would do it, Rufus understood that the different life-span and different social structure made this behavior make sense for humans. What didn't make sense to Rufus was Ron's refusal to accept the fact that the bond he had created with Kim was gone and it would never come back.

Again, Rufus realized that he probably couldn't understand completely. He liked Kim and he missed her but she was gone. Ron's refusal to even attempt to form a pair-bond with Weiss wouldn't bring his bond with Kim back. This foolishness was only making him and Weiss miserable. Rufus understood that for humans, the act of mating usually had more socializing before the act than it did with rats, but Ron wouldn't even attempt the socializing; even though it was obvious to everyone around them that both he and Weiss wanted to.

The mole rat sighed. He wasn't a typical rodent, by any means. For the most part, his mischief consisted of Ron and Ron's friends. Since rats were very emphatic creatures, he was sad when Ron was sad and right now, Ron was very sad. It was a long night, with neither of them getting much sleep.

* * *

Oh, it was good to be back!

This thought occurred to Yang, over and over, as she sprinted the conditioning course that Weiss and Ron had set up. Sure, there were reporters and photographers lined up at the gate to the Schnee Estate, a few drones were in the air overhead, so every move the trio made was being recorded and probably critiqued...but let them! Her long, golden hair streamed behind her as she ran and her new arm was working perfectly as she unleashed devastating strikes on the targets on the way. Let the press do its worst; all they would really be able to say was that Yang Xiao Long was looking good and was on her game again!

She surged into the lead as they finished the course at the tennis court. Right on her heels, Ron came onto the court with a series of hand-springs, followed by a fairly impressive double flip. This seemed more than a little unusual; first, in Yang's experience, guys didn't usually do the tumbling that girls did. Okay, Ren was beyond agile and Sun, as a monkey faunus, could perform acrobatics that made even her jaw drop. But the rest of the guys that she knew; Jaune, her father and uncle, Team CRDL, Neptune and a few others, preferred the occasional tuck-and-roll to flips and hand-springs. Somewhere, Ron had picked up an acrobatic background and he was really pushing it today.

That was another thing, Ron was clearly exhausted this morning. Yang couldn't blame the guy; if a couple of rats had been having sex on her bed last night, she would have had some trouble sleeping. However, she suspected that there was more to it than that and if he was short on sleep, he should be cutting back on the acrobatics, not cranking them up to another level. That was fine by her; if he wanted to bring the level up, she was more than ready to match him!

"I got first!" She shouted, and took after Ron.

Just yesterday, Ron had been stiff and covered with contusions while she had been down an arm. Now, he had healed a little more and she was back at full power, so it was time to show him what she could do. She quickly realized that it wasn't just acrobatics that he was pushing; he was also taking his dodging to the limit. In a way, he reminded her of the small woman, Neo. He didn't retaliate, but made small, subtle dodges that had her missing him by centimeters with each strike. Yang's eyes flashed red...but then she regained control of her temper.

It had been close to two years ago that she had fought Neo on the train from Mountain Glen, and she had come a long way since then. To her shame, she realized that her father's lessons about keeping her head wouldn't have sunk in without the loss to Neo, or the loss of her arm to Adam. She didn't understand what had gotten into Ron, why he was now utilizing agility and evasiveness, but she was ready. Instead of throwing harder and faster strikes...and wearing herself out...she studied his moves, looking for a pattern to his dodges and parries while pacing her strikes. His moves seemed to be completely random, so she worked with something else.

One of the first rules her father had taught her about fighting is that you never throw just one strike; a single blow can be blocked or avoided but a combination presents a much more difficult problem. Now, Yang started throwing multiple combinations; the human body could only move and twist in so many ways and as limber as Ron was, dodging multiple strikes herded him into a position where she could finally land a few. Ron realized this and started striking back. His skill with his tonfa was improving and he quickly reminded her that he had mastered the leg scissors and had a back-flip rising kick combination that could take your head off if you weren't careful.

Her audience was forgotten. She completely lost herself in the flow of the competition; the need to maintain enough of an offensive to keep him off-balance and reacting, but not so much that she wore herself down faster than him. She drove herself to set up her strikes while needing to counter his. First she would take the initiative, forcing him to duck, dodge, or retreat...only for a sudden kick or strike of his to force her onto the defensive. She lost track of how many times they drove each other across the court, she was only vaguely aware that they were both drenched with sweat and their breath was heaving. Both took their shots, but kept on fighting. She did note that his eyes were glowing blue before they were both sent flying sideways, as if gravity had turned horizontal.

She recognized one of Weiss' black glyphs even as she tumbled too regain her feet.

"Since the two of you choose to ignore me," the heiress sniffed. "I've decided to take on both of you!"

Weiss hadn't even finished speaking before she swept her rapier out, causing ice to form where she gestured. Yang had been around her enough to know what was about to happen and vaulted out of the path, but Ron was slightly slower and had his feet encased in ice. The young man broke himself free, but that action gave Weiss the few seconds she needed to form her white glyphs all around him and launch herself into the network. Yang had seen her do this before; bouncing from glyph to glyph so fast that even a trained huntress had difficulty following her movements. Ron did the logical thing; he crouched low and covered as much of his body as he could with his twirling tonfa, taking a few hits but blocking most. He tensed for a leap out of the hemisphere of glyphs, but then did something unexpected. Instead of trying to escape the hemisphere, he also started to spring from glyph to glyph, much like Weiss was.

Yang was caught by surprise; she had never seen anyone actually use Weiss' glyphs against her before. She quickly changed her thought; she had never seen anyone attempt to use Weiss' glyphs against her before. Ron was considerably slower and less coordinated, but the action had caught Weiss as much by surprise as it had caught Yang. Sparks flew and aura was depleted as Myrtenaster met tonfa, driven with the force of two bodies ricocheting between the glyphs. Weiss remained in control; springing off of a low glyph, she dispelled all of them. Ron, who was aligning himself to bounce off of a high glyph, suddenly found himself tumbling out of control through the air. Weiss came up from underneath him and landed a solid strike to his midsection, then formed a black glyph under him that sent him to do a belly flop on the hard surface of the tennis court. Air rushed out of his lungs as Weiss formed another series of white glyphs, allowing her to gracefully return to the ground.

A warning chime sounded from the scroll in Ron's pocket.

"Low aura warning," Yang declared. "We are officially done sparring for the day." She looked towards the gate, where reporters were in a feeding frenzy of filming.

Ron weakly rolled over onto his back and Yang offered him a hand to his feet.

"That was...innovative," Weiss told him. The heiress was breathing heavily from her exertions.

"And now I know it's not a good idea," he admitted. "Never be normal isn't always the best way to do things."

Seeing a break in the action, several reporters shouted questions, which ran the gamut from logical, to intrusive, to downright bizarre.

"I will not make any comment at this time!" Weiss shouted back. "Later this morning, I will field questions, for a limited time, at the gate. Thank you!"

She spun on her heel and strode purposefully towards the mansion, while Yang offered the winded Ron some support as they followed her. The entered through a servants' door and as soon as they were clear of the reporters, and the drones, Weiss spun around again, her eyes wide with concern.

"Are you well?" She asked the young man. "I didn't dare inquire where we were being recorded, but are you injured?" A gentle hand found its way to his shoulder.

"Some pain," he answered. "But no worse than blocking drills. I'll heal."

"Why did you suddenly change tactics?" She asked. "You were emphasizing agility and unpredictability back there, rather than you usual technique."

"You noticed it too, eh?" Yang pipped in.

"Just checking how the Mystical Monkey Power still affects me," Ron admitted. "It enhances my strength and nimbleness. I wanted to see how much I still had."

"Why would you be concerned about this?" She asked.

"I...uh..." Ron sighed. He had never been good at lying to determined young women who were concerned about him. "I think that my aura is messing with some parts of the MMP. There are...skills...that I had back on Earth that I haven't tried to use since...um..." He rubbed the back of his head and gave Weiss a quick, guilty glance.

"Since I awakened your aura," the heiress concluded. Her already large eyes opened wider and she brought a hand up to her mouth. "I destroyed this for you, too, didn't I?"

"What?" He was honestly confused.

"I'm the reason!" She almost sobbed. "I woke you aura and because of it, you can't go home! You can't go back to...her! Now, it ruined your other power! I'm so sorry..."

"Weiss, no!" He protested. He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. "You didn't know! Qrow told you to do it and even he didn't know what it would do! Nobody could!"

"No..." she shrugged his hand off of her shoulder and hurried deeper into the mansion.

"Weiss..." Ron tried to pursue, but Yang's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"I'll talk to her, in a bit," Yang told him. "She's a very logical person, so she'll realize that she's not at fault, once she calms down a little. Right now, she's feeling guilty over you, so you being around her won't help."

"I..."

"You're a good guy, and that's part of the problem," Yang told him. "But in the meantime, we have to talk."

"We do?"

"We do," she confirmed. "I'm a blunt sort of person, so I'm gonna come out and say that she's very interested in you, and it isn't just as a friend and teammate."

"Uh, yeah."

"And you're interested the same way," Yang added.

"Yeah," Ron repeated.

"She's vulnerable where you're concerned," she continued. "You just saw that, she's very upset that she's hurt you, even though it wasn't her fault."

"Is this the part where you threaten to dismember me if I take advantage of that?" He asked her. "You don't have to, I'm not..."

"That's not the problem," she interrupted. "I want to know why you haven't done anything about it."

"What?" He was confused. "You mean you want me to..."

"No, nothing that cut and dry," she interrupted again. "Ron, you like her, she likes you, you both want something more, so why aren't you doing something about it?"

"I'm still with..." he couldn't finish.

"Okay, your loyalty is the problem," Yang shook her head in a sort of pained amusement. "Ironic, since that's what attracted her to you in the first place."

"What?"

"So blind," she continued to shake her head. "Ron, you're loyal to this other girl, Kim, and that would be wonderful if there was any hope of getting the two of you back together. It would be a sort of tragic romance even now that there isn't a chance, but it's hurting people."

"Isn't this sort of private?" Ron countered. "Sort of my business?"

"Yeah, but I'm your friend, so I get to butt in if I feel like it. Weiss is my friend, as well, so I get to butt in when something's bothering her."

"Who made up that rule?" Ron demanded.

"I did, just now," she smirked at him, then got a serious expression. "Your loyalty is usually something that makes you better, makes you more valuable to everyone around you, but it's hurting people right now!"

"Weiss..."

"Yes, Weiss," Yang insisted. "Sure, you can see that it's hurting Weiss, she wants you and knows that you want her. Don't you want her to have a full life, even romance if she wants it?"

"Of course!" Ron snapped back.

"Well, she can't while you keep holding on to Earth! How can she move on when every time your former girlfriend gets into extreme danger, you vanish just long enough to let Earth tear you up again?"

Ron looked a little uncertain, so Yang tried a different tact. "What if your semblance worked in reverse?" She asked. "What if every time you're in danger, Kim gets yanked here, to help you while Remnant grinds her up, then sends her back? What kind of a life would that be for her, not even able to take a bath or go to bed without wondering if she's going to wind up in the middle of a fight for her life?"

"That's...not a life," Ron admitted.

"What does that put the people around her through?" Yang bore in. "Imagine wanting to sit down and celebrate something, like graduating college, winning some award or even just her birthday, only to have her vanish and reappear a few minutes later, cut up, bleeding, and needing help. That's what you're putting all of us through!"

Ron dropped his head in shame.

"But you're putting Kim through something just as bad," Yang continued. "What's it like for her, knowing that if she finds herself in enough danger, you'll show up for just long enough to get roughed up and give her that little taste of having you back again? Don't you want her to find someone and have the full life? How's that going to work out if you keep dropping in just long enough to get ground up and give her that little taste of having you back?"

Ron didn't have an answer.

"It's like an alcoholic trying to give up drinking," she concluded. "You can't just go for smaller and smaller portions until you're dry...it doesn't work that way. If I understand your situation, you have the power to make a clean break. Call the blade and accept that you're a man of Remnant, and not some ghost on Earth. Let Kim live her life while you live yours!"

For a couple of minutes, Ron just worked his jaw, trying to find the words to say. "It seems like there should be some dramatic moment," he finally said. "Something should happen that I need the blade for, like back on the ship. It just shouldn't be a careful decision, but that's what it's going to be, isn't it."

"Hey, I didn't mean right at this moment!" She gave him a light punch on the shoulder, with a bright smile. "If you need to sit down and make things right in your mind first, go for it! Just remember that the longer you delay, the greater the chance that something might happen to make both Weiss and Kim hurt even more."

"Thanks for the advice," he said, then grimaced. "Wait a minute, this isn't more helpful advice, like telling me that Weiss had an ovipositor was, is it?"

"Naw," she punched his shoulder again. "That was just for fun. This is serious. You and Weiss are friends and I don't like seeing you suffer. The two of you are good for each other, and I think that you could be even better for each other."

Any response Ron could have made was interrupted by a floor tile shifting, then sliding to one side. From a tunnel under the tile, Rufus emerged and replaced the tile, before climbing up Ron and taking a seat on his shoulder. The rat squeaked into his ear, prompting him to pat the little fellow gently on the head.

"You're doing a good job, buddy."

"Where was he today?" Yang asked. "He's usually drilling the Schnee Rats in the morning."

"He figured that with all of the attention on the family, having the press report that rats do martial arts training on the estate wouldn't help the credibility much."

"That's thoughtful of him," she noted. "But is he really teaching rats how to fight?"

"Yep," Ron was clearly proud of his small friend. "He modified a discipline called Monkey Kung Fu for rodents. The rats are picking up on it pretty well, but he's been having other problems this morning. The tailor that Mrs. Schnee uses must have some impressive production capability, because the uniforms for the rats were delivered while we were on the course."

"Oh, the rat's don't like wearing the uniforms?"

"No...Rufus is having a real tough time teaching them how to tie Windsor Knots."

* * *

Weiss was expecting the knock on her door. When she called for whomever was knocking to come in, she was a little surprised to see that it was Yang. She was then a little surprised that the knocking hadn't broken the door out of the frame.

"Let me guess," she told her larger friend, even while gesturing her towards a chair. "Ron wanted to come talk to me, but you told him that it would be better if you talked to me first."

"Good guess," Yang answered, taking the chair. The brawler had a slight smile on her face and sprawled onto the chair in a most un-ladylike manner.

"So now's the time when you're going to tell me that he isn't mad at me," Weiss decided, thinking of what the two of them must have talked about.

"Only if I have to," Yang shrugged. "I'm pretty sure that you'd have worked it out by now."

"There's no way that anyone could have known what activating his aura would do to him," Weiss murmured. "And he realizes it and won't get mad at me just to have someone to be mad at."

"You got it," Yang grinned at her.

"So, since you've figured out that I have figured out that I shouldn't feel guilty, I'm suppose that you're here because you know that I'm embarrassed and want to smooth things over."

"If I need to," Yang shrugged again. "I'm really here to tell you that you have to give him some time."

"What?"

"Weiss, it's pretty obvious to everyone that the two of you are sweet on each other," Yang told her. "And it isn't some silly little 'you're cute' sort of thing. The two of you are really good for each other."

"And you're little 'girls on Remnant have ovipositors' story really helped that out." Weiss sniffed.

"Hey, if you can't have some fun with your friends getting the hots for each other, what can you have fun with?" Yang grinned briefly. "But seriously, remember when you first got to Beacon?"

"I'd rather not," Weiss' expression was noticeably pained.

"You were still Weiss Schnee, the heiress," Yang pointed out. "You were someone who expected people to treat her with respect and a little fear, due to her family."

"Do you have to remind me?" Weiss dropped her face into her hands.

"You had to throw away Weiss Schnee the heiress and become Weiss Schnee the student," Yang told her. "And you did, but it took time, and some help from Professor Port and your team, to see that you needed to do it. It took Dr. Oobleck's question session in Mountain Glenn to make us all examine why we wanted to be huntresses and because all of us sort of threw away what we had been before, we were able to make ourselves something better. But you were still in one of the kingdoms, so you only had to throw so much away, you were still on Remnant."

"And Ron..." Weiss prompted her.

"Has to throw away even more of who he was," Yang told her. "I lost an arm, but I was still Yang Xiao Long of Vale and Beacon. You stepped away from your earlier life, but you were still Weiss Schnee of Remnant. A little over a year ago, Ron didn't know about dust, grimm, auras or semblances. He was an assistant...oh, what does he call it...a sidekick?...To his world's version of a huntress. He was essentially a hunter, with his future plotted out, when it all got thrown away. Yeah, it's been a year since it happened but he has to turn his back on almost everything he's turned himself into."

"So you're saying I should wait patiently for this guy to get his feelings in order?" Weiss felt distinctly offended by that thought.

"You don't need a guy and we both know it," Yang's broad grin was back. "A boyfriend...or more...is an option, not a necessity. All I'm saying is that looking at things from his experience might help you realize that he doesn't hold a grudge; but he's having trouble turning the page on twenty years of his life. It's pretty easy for him to say or do something that's pretty profound for him, but might seem insulting to you."

"You're right," Weiss sighed. "I just feel that sometimes I'm the one who took away so much of what he was. I know that nobody realized that he wouldn't be able to go home with his aura activated, but I'm still the one who did it, which means that I'm the reason he can't go back and marry Kim. A romantic relationship with him makes me feel like I sabotaged his previous one, so it makes it feel kind of wrong."

"It means you have a conscious," Yang shrugged. "Even if it's telling you the wrong thing."

"And now I find out that his aura is inhibiting his other power," Weiss continued. "Nobody knew it would, but I'm still the one who did it."

"It was you who did it because my uncle wanted to get a peek into his character and tweak General Ironwood at the same time," Yang reminded her. "He still has some of it, enough to make him a strong hunter if he can push a goliath around. There's still a lot for him to work with, so help him build the new Ron Stoppable. Who knows, the two of you might make him into someone you both really like." Yang's smile became predatory. "And I'll be mocking the two of you, every step of the way!"

"Try to provide another alternative anatomy lesson and I'll freeze your butt to a toilet seat again!"

"Wouldn't have it any other way!" Yang looked extremely pleased with herself.

* * *

Weiss was glad that she had the talk with Yang, because the next conversation promised to be considerably less pleasant. Still, she was a Schnee and that meant that she wouldn't shirk from an unpleasant task. However, she was more than willing to make it as un-unpleasant as she possibly could. She asked Kline to inform her brother that she wanted to speak with him in the billiards room, then waited a half-hour before seeking the room, herself.

Again, she noted that there was a little of their grandfather in her brother; the boy was playing billiards when she arrived. She took a few moments to note that he wasn't playing particularly well, but he was giving the impression of someone calmly awaiting this meeting. At least Weiss hoped he was putting on airs; it would be bad form if he was actually calmer about this than she was.

"Ah, dear sister," he addressed her. He had missed a shot and was walking around the table, prompting him to spot her watching him. "Do you care to join me for a game? I hope I can trust you to not use your glyphs to gain an advantage over me."

"Of course." If he wanted to play it cool, so could she; although she allowed herself a slight smile, thinking of what putting a dark glyph in one of the pockets could do to one of her shots.

Her brother racked the balls and, being the gentleman, offered her the break. It had been a long time since she had played pocket billiards, but she had a huntress' strength and a fencer's eye for angles. She dropped a striped ball on the break, then another on her follow up shot. Her angle was bad for the third, so she missed. Whitley hadn't played very much, or perhaps he was more nervous than he let on; he sunk a solid ball with his first shot, then missed his second.

"This is what it should be like, between the two of us," Weiss attempted to get the conversation started, while lining up her next shot. Perhaps it was her own nervousness or perhaps she needed more practice, she scratched.

"How is that, dear sister?" Whitley asked her, recovering the cue ball and placing it where he wanted. "Playing an awkward game while attempting an awkward conversation?"

"I was speaking of what we were superficially doing," she admitted, as he sunk another of his balls while setting up a good, follow up angle. "Enjoying a game, just the two of us."

Whitley sunk another before turning to address her. "I don't think either of us are actually enjoying the game very much," he pointed out. "So perhaps we should speak openly to each other."

"An excellent suggestion."

"Very well, I will start," he announced. He placed his cue in the rack, letting her know that he was taking the conversation very seriously. "I announced my doubts to Mr. Stoppable's origins. While I was apparently wrong in my belief that he was a robot, the fact that he is from another world should prove that my concerns were not without merit. Yet, when I expressed these reasonable concerns, you saw fit to retaliate...in a manner I will not describe."

"The false victim narrative is sickening," Weiss responded. "If we are going to speak openly, let's also speak honestly. You saw an opportunity to gain influence in both the company and the family by besmirching my reputation, while I was conveniently out of the kingdom trying to protect another kingdom from a horrible fate."

"And I find your 'wronged hero' narrative to be just as vile," he replied. "You left the family and the company on two occasions. On the first occasion, father was generous enough to welcome you back, even going so far as to travel to Vale and retrieve you from the danger you put yourself in. It was your subsequent behavior, in which you endangered people at a charity ball he was hosting, that prompted him to confine you to your room. After this, you fled the kingdom, with the help of General Ironwood. You did not return until you were conveniently over eighteen, at which point you had several clandestine meetings with mother, during which you convinced her to displace father as the CEO and to set me aside as the heir and re-instate you as the heiress. Not satisfied with that, you arranged to have me removed from my own home, against my will, and sent well away from both the family and the company."

"It was for your benefit!" Weiss snapped at him. "You either had no idea what father was doing to the company's reputation or worse, you didn't care!"

"I know that he increased both our market share and our profits, despite the depredations of the White Fang," Whitley answered, his voice still calm. "I know that despite his desires, he supported you in your decision to attend Beacon Academy, up to the point where that decision became clearly self-endangering. Even after that, after you had proved to be potentially self-destructive, he welcomed you back and kept you on as the heiress despite..." Whitley looked away momentarily and swiped savagely at the side of his face. "Despite my efforts to prove my worth," the boy finished, when he was able to face her again.

Weiss suppressed a sudden urge to embrace her younger brother. Right now, such a gesture of sympathy wouldn't be appreciated. "Is this what it was all about," she finally asked. "Me being in your way to accomplish something?"

"At least Winter isn't greedy," he hissed, bitterness pouring out of his every word and gesture. "She's content to achieve her high standing within the military, as well as the accolades that gives her. You, on the other had, are grabbing everything! You insist upon becoming a huntress, as Winter, but you also demand to be the CEO and the heiress. Not content with this, you make yourself the heroine of both Atlas and Mistral! What will be left for me, dear sister? I have dedicated myself to learning the business so that I can be a more effective CEO than you, but your order of birth and the alliance you have formed with our mother precludes me from achieving that goal. Not only that, but what member of the board will ever want me in the CEO's seat, or even listen to me, for that matter? You and Winter have the board of directors, our mother, and the public eating from your hands."

"So that's what it's about," Weiss now murmured, gently. "You were afraid that you would lose everything."

"Winter was father's favorite," the boy answered, suddenly staring at the billiards table with unseeing eyes. "She was intelligent, beautiful, regal and strong. He was even willing to overlook her entry into Atlas Academy, deciding that it would boost the company's image if the heiress were huntress trained. It was only after she defied him and joined the military that he disowned her. Of course, she didn't care; she tossed aside the position I wanted as if it were a torn and empty bag."

"Then he favored you," Whitley now looked at her. "Maybe not as imposing as Winter, but beautiful, intelligent and determined. As much as he hated to see you leave the kingdom, he hoped that you wouldn't find yourself exposed to the coercion to join the military that Winter had. When Vale became dangerous, he personally faced the danger to bring you back to safety, yet you tossed his gesture back in his face. When you defied him, he turned to me; quite reluctantly, I may add."

"I worked so hard to make him see my worth," the boy almost sobbed. "Where you spent time with fencing instructors, I spent time with business tutors. My grades are actually better than yours were, if you are willing to accept the possibility. Yet, what did those efforts gain me? He still hoped to somehow rehabilitate you up until you fled! Then you returned, with strange friends and clear connections to the same government that had claimed Winter. What was I to think was happening, dear sister, and what was I to do?"

"You should have spoken to me, or to mother," Weiss told him. "We would have listened to you, worked with you."

"Just like you worked with father."

"Father had to go!" Weiss growled at him. "What he was doing was wrong! Can't you see that?"

"Increasing our profit margin and our market share was wrong?" Whitley asked. "Isn't that what a CEO is supposed to do?"

"It is if you are sacrificing long-term growth!" Weiss tried to talk business language. "Whitley, father inherited a strong company, one with a dominate position in the dust trade. Our grandfather built it to the level it was through being honorable and trustworthy. Don't you understand that we can't force our customers to purchase our product? They have to purchase it willingly! Don't you understand that we can't force our employees to work for us? They need to see that the compensation and working conditions provide them with gainful employment."

"But father was doing so," Whitley informed her. "I don't recall him forcing dust onto our customers and I know that he was paying all of our employees the same, generous wage."

"Only if you didn't dig too deep," Weiss sighed. "Whitley, he improved our market share by forcing smaller producers and distributors out of business. While purchasing a competitor, at an agreed upon price, is a valid business practice, he was manipulating markets and government officials to force them to sell at depressed prices. The result was not only a great deal of resentment for the Schnee Dust Company, but in increase in smuggling. You can read the reports that the board had prepared. While the smuggling, and employee pilferage, hadn't gotten to a crisis level, both were increasing at an alarming rate."

"I suppose you will now tell me how the profit margins were somehow purchased at the cost of honor, as well," he murmured.

"Part of the story," Weiss told him. "Yes, father paid the faunus workers the same wage he paid the human workers, but he paid it in company script, not lien. There were only so many stores, shops and landlords that were willing to accept company script, and they were all in Mantle. Of course, one would have to expect that these stores would inflate their prices slightly, since they had to convert the script back to lien before they could make use of it, but the prices were incredibly high. The bottom line is that the faunus employees were making roughly half of what our human employees were making."

"And I suppose that there were consequences for this?"

"Unrest and outright rioting in Mantle," Weiss told him. "As well as long-term tarnishing of the Schnee name. I ended the practice, at considerable cost, and the unrest is starting to subside, but it won't be gone, and our good name won't be restored, for years to come."

Whitley merely looked at her.

"I'll arrange to let you review the ledgers," she told him. "It's the least I can do. Siblings shouldn't be treating each other the way that we've been. We're family, we're supposed to support each other, not sell each other out or humiliate each other."

"And where do we go next?" He asked. "Say the company ledgers prove that you are correct, what benefit do you get from convincing me?"

"As hard as it is for you to understand, I need you," she told him.

"You?" He sounded half mocking, half amused. "Need the likes of me?"

"Like you said, I'm trying to do too much," she told him. "I don't know if I believe in destiny, but I don't picture my future to be in the boardroom."

"You don't believe it, or you don't wish it?" He asked.

"A little of both," she admitted. "At some point, Beacon will re-open, and I intend to complete my huntress training there. After that, it's my intent to serve Remnant as a huntress, going where I believe myself to be needed. I cannot do this while operating the company. Winter cannot do so while fulfilling her responsibilities as a military specialist. It would be better if we had a Schnee, someone invested in the company's success and reputation, taking care of that."

"You would actually trust me with this?" His expression was clearly doubtful.

"If you review what father was doing, and come to the conclusion that what he was doing was wrong," she told him. "I will arrange to have you attend board meetings, when it doesn't interfere with your studies or your internships. This will bare all of my secrets to you, allowing you to judge for yourself if I have the company's long-term sustainability in mind. Should you prove capable, I will turn over both the CEO position and the heir apparent position to you. However, I will keep options in place that will allow myself or Winter to wrest control out of your hands if you let the power and privileged seduce you." She paused for another moment. "Just as I must make sure the I can be ousted, should I become unworthy of the responsibility."

"I'm impressed," Whitley admitted. "We have details to work out, but I conditionally accept."

"There's another reason," she admitted. "Winter lives a very dangerous life, and should my plans come to fruition, so will I. Also, due to the fact that we have our auras active, it is very unlikely that either of us will ever have more than one child."

"I didn't know that you wanted a family," he observed.

"I don't...at least not at this time," she answered. "But it will eventually come up. We're in a species-wide war to the death against the grimm, and the most vital thing that we can do is replenish our numbers. I want you to remain safe, with your aura asleep, so that you can have the family that neither I nor our sister will be able to."

"I was actually aware of this issue," he told her. "Father used to rant about things and as the youngest and least of the siblings, he would do so in my presence, not even noticing me. I can give you a little additional information. He believed that this didn't only affect those with active auras, but those who had children with one such." At Weiss' confused look, he continued. "Say that our dear sister were to meet a brave and honorable man. Say that the two of them were to give us a niece. The odds are that the two of them will never have another child. Should they go their separate ways, it is unlikely that Winter will be able to bear another child with another man and it is unlikely that the young man in question will ever be able to father another child. Perhaps it's just as well that this isn't general knowledge. Huntsmen are currently revered; they could quickly become ostracized."

"True," she admitted. "Will you take offense if I try to confirm this belief?"

"Not at all," he actually grinned at her. "So long as you take no offense at me confirming your claims towards father's business practices."

"I've already given you my approval," she reminded him. "Whitley, I would much rather have a brother than an adversary and I think you would benefit from having a sister rather than a rival. Can we agree to this."

"Wholeheartedly," he assured her. "So, where do we go from here?"

"Why don't we finish this game?" She suggested. "You're ahead and it's your shot. Don't think I'm going to hold back out of mercy."

"Dear sister," he smirked, removing his cue. "You are severely out of practice. I believe that your pride is about to take a severe blow."

* * *

 _A/N:_

 _It may be a little out of character, but I couldn't help but give Whitley a little bit of a redemption arc._

 _Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read and drop a review; big thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for his beta reading._


	5. Chapter 5

Was it fortunate or unfortunate that she wasn't able to deal with the last conversation of the day right away? Weiss wasn't usually indecisive, but she had made something of a fool out of herself in front of Ron and she intended to deal with that at the first opportunity. However, playing billiards with her brother seemed much more important. They had wound up playing for over an hour and as the games were won and lost, they opened up to each other. He told her about his studies, acquaintances and apprenticeships while she told him about her studies and friends at Beacon. When the time came for her to leave for the board meeting, she didn't exactly trust him, but she thought that she might understand him.

For that reason, she had brought him along for the board meeting. He had leapt at the opportunity and had done as she requested; remained silent and observed for the entire meeting. She had placed him where she could easily observe him as he observed the meeting. He took notes and had a thoughtful expression the entire time. Now, they were in the back of the car as their regular driver, not Kline, drove them back to the mansion.

"You look pensive," he observed. "Care to share why?"

"I'm not looking forward to the gauntlet that's probably waiting for us at home," she answered. This was true enough, as the reporters waiting outside the gate on the way out had nearly blinded the poor driver with their photographs.

"True," he nodded. "The handful of questions you answered upon our departure only whetted their appetites, but are you certain that there isn't anything else that you dread?"

"Nothing that I'm about to share with you," she informed him. "At least not just yet."

He was clearly more observant than she was really comfortable with...but perhaps that would turn into an asset rather than a threat. The mocking 'dear sister' title was gone...except for when mocking was acceptable. This was progress, and she hoped to continue this progress...even if she really had no idea how to do so. Fortunately, her scroll chimed, allowing her to concentrate on something other than developing this boy who was only two years younger than her. She couldn't stop the wide smile from showing on her face upon reading the message.

"I take it that you have had some good news, for a change," he noted.

"Flynt and Neon made it to Soguk Su and will be on a ship in a day or two," Weiss announced. "About a week at sea and they'll be in Atlas!"

"Your companions and teammates," Whitley commented. "You must be looking forward to seeing them again."

"I am," she smiled. "It's good to know that they're still well." Then, she frowned as another thought intruded. "Whitley, do you have any friends, anyone who you would like to visit?"

"I'm a Schnee," he replied, bitterly. "There are several fellows my age that have befriended me, and a few girls my age that have shown a certain interest in me...all with their families' enthusiastic approval, I'm sure."

She looked at him again, thinking.

"Weiss, I'm getting uncomfortable with your constant gaze," he admitted.

"Oh!" She shook herself out her reverie. "Whitley, I think that you have the same inadequacy that I did, before leaving Atlas for the first time."

"And that is?" He prompted.

"I had no idea how people interacted," she told him. "It was becoming a member of Team RWBY that forced me to open my perspective, so I wish to do the same to you."

"Oh, more forced friendships?"

"No!" She insisted. "I'd like you to spend more time with me when I'm interacting with my friends. Trust me, they're not going to put up a false front to impress you. We don't always get along perfectly, but at the end of the day, we're friends."

"Ah," he nodded. "You wish me to see the gritty reality and not the polished artificial?"

"And participate in it," she added.

"It...sounds interesting," he murmured. "Oh, it appears that the gauntlet is just as bad as we suspected it would be."

She looked out the front of the car and noted that they were almost to the estate, and that a small horde of reporters were circling like nevermores. She quickly adjusted her posture, facing forward with a neutral expression on her face and noting that Whitley did the same. The car, blocked by the press of reporters, came to a halt. More reporters swarmed around them, shouting questions. Fortunately, the siblings only had to ignore them for a few minutes before the guards that her mother had hired showed up and ushered them out of the car's path, allowing the vehicle to pass into the relative shelter of the fenced off, Schnee Estate. As soon as the car came to a halt, Kline emerged from the mansion to open Whitley's door, while the driver opened Weiss'. Ron, wearing his Atlas Academy Uniform and Yang, wearing her Beacon Uniform, also emerged.

The shouted questions at both Weiss and Ron were deafening.

"You're eventually going to have to have some sort of question and answer session," Yang told the heiress, as the four walked back to the mansion. "Unless you'd like me to just start pummeling reporters."

"As tempting as that sounds, it would just make things more difficult in the end," Weiss informed her, although her slight smile told her larger friend that she appreciated the joking offer.

"Maybe non-violent antagonism?" Yang asked. "We could just moon 'em all."

"Yang..." Weiss rolled her eyes.

"It could be done," Whitley interrupted. "If Mister Stoppable were to do so, we could claim that it's a formal gesture on Earth that means 'no questions at this time'."

"I like the way you think," Yang told the younger Schnee.

Ron rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. "I could get away with it, couldn't I?" An expression of gleeful realization spread across his face.

"Urgh!" Weiss palmed her face, heedless of the reporters recording the gesture. "Whitley, no giving _these_ two any ideas. Yang, no encouraging _these_ two and Ron, if your hand so much as touches your belt, I'm going to carve you! Now, let's get inside before one of those idiots says something that sets me off!"

With a deliberate stride, Weiss led the way into the front doors, only to come to a dumbfounded halt a few steps inside. She was only barely aware that Kline closed the door, making sure that the reporters couldn't see her.

"Ron," she managed to ask, in a calm and reasonable voice. "Why is Rufus waiting here with four other rats? And why are the other rats all wearing Schnee servants' livery?"

"They're presenting themselves for your approval," Ron told her. Behind him, Yang snickered into her hand.

"So why isn't Rufus wearing the same thing?"

"He's not one of the servant rats," Ron explained. "He's a guest. Still, the little guy understands formalities."

"Yes," Weiss noted. "He's wearing a tie, but nothing else. So, what are you expecting me to do?"

"Isn't it customary for the head of the manor to inspect new servants?" Yang asked, her smirk returning.

"I've never inspected a rat for the proper wear of a uniform before," Weiss answered.

"Sister, perhaps I should do it," Whitley interrupted. "Our new...errr...invitees, are rather small, which will require whomever inspects their uniforms to crouch down quite low."

"I can see that," Weiss fixed her brother with a suspicious eye.

"I also note that your business skirt is quite short," he continued. "And we have additional hires in the mansion, so perhaps it would be less embarrassing if a Schnee who happens to be wearing trousers were to take on this task."

"Oh!" Weiss actually blushed slightly. "Perhaps you're right."

With a slight smile, which was equal parts smirk and sympathetic, the boy dropped to his knees before crouching even lower, so that he could inspect the rats in minute detail. He had to crawl down the line, taking a minute two for each rat. At the end, he even looked over Rufus a little. Finally, he sprang to his feet and brushed imaginary dirt from his knees.

"I freely admit that I've never inspected rodent employees before," he told the other three humans. "The next time I speak to father, I must tell him that his education omitted this vital skill."

"You're going to tell father about this?" Weiss demanded.

"Of course," the boy shrugged. "Imagine him trying to determine if the report is factual."

"So, what's the verdict?" Ron asked him.

"I must obtain a magnifying glass prior to the next inspection," the boy declared. "I found it very difficult to judge the proper fit and wear of such small apparel."

"But what about what you could see?"

"They look acceptable," Whitley remarked. "But, with the exception of Rufus, their ties were tied somewhat sloppily."

On the floor, Rufus gave the other rats a hard look. The other rodents responded with looks that varied between embarrassed, ashamed, and contrite.

"They'll work on it," Ron assured the Schnees. "Keep in mind that they had never tied this particular knot before this morning."

"This _particular_ knot?" Whitley's face showed both amusement and curiosity.

"Let's not discuss it," Weiss told them. "I'm sure that mother will wish to see the two of us. Since the mansion is still standing after a day in which Yang, Ron and Rufus have been trapped inside, we can leave them to their own devices for a little bit longer."

* * *

It had been the best evening at home that Weiss could remember for a very long time. Whitley was actually acting like her brother again and even though she didn't fully trust him yet, she thought she realized how he had gotten to his position. Upon hearing that Flynt and Neon were on the way back, her mother had started to plan a reception, as well as a question and answer session for Ron and her to address the press.

After dinner, the five of them retired to her mother's sitting room, where they played cards and discussed the potential reception and press conference. It felt good to include Yang and Ron in the discussion; and it felt even better to include Whitley. While she watched him closely, and wondered if there was some way she could see if he was just observing to pass on information to either her father or economic rivals. She believed that she would eventually be able to trust him...to a certain extent...but that time was not now.

After the talk, which allowed the meal to settle a little bit, Einsam insisted on coaching the young people for a formal dance. Of course, Weiss and Whitley had been attending such events since shortly after they could walk and Ron had been subjected to a little of the experience, but Yang had never been subjected to such a trial. Einsam ran them through formal dancing. It had been a long time since Weiss had danced with her brother, and she had to admit that she was a little put off with how much taller Whitley had grown. Then, Einsam paired Yang with Whitley and Weiss was forced to stifle her giggles.

Yang had looked the boy in the eye and had made some fairly graphic threats about what would happen to him if he let his hands wander. Ever the diplomat, Whitley assured the brawler that he would never even think about such an indiscretion. Yang, quite naturally, took this as an insult.

"What's wrong, am I fat or something?" She demanded.

"Of course not," Whitley assured her. "You're most attractive."

"So you're thinking of groping me!"

"No!" Now Whitley was getting a little flustered.

"So you do think that I'm not grope-worthy!"

"Is there any answer that I can provide that won't give offense?" He complained.

"Nah," Yang offered him a broad grin. "I'm just playing you. Let's do this."

With that, more tension had been taken away...and Weiss suspected that Yang had planned on this as much as the fun of tormenting the youngster. Yang proved to be graceful and a quick study, so Einsam was able to coach the young people through several formal waltzes before she grew weary and sought her bed. Whitley and Yang left soon afterwards, finally giving Weiss the opportunity to apologize to Ron for the scene she had made after their workout.

"I know you're going to tell me that I don't have anything to feel guilty about," Weiss told the young man. "But I'm going to apologize anyway; both for awakening your aura and for putting you in an awkward situation."

"Apologies accepted," he told her. "Even though there's nothing to apologize for." He paused a little, awkwardly. "Could I tell you a little about how I got the Mystical Monkey Power?"

She slid to one side on the couch, gesturing to the space next to her. With a slight nod, he sat.

"It was because I was scared and weak." he told her. "One of the problems with being a volunteer hero on Earth was that you still had to live your regular life. It started with this jade statue, that we helped this nobleman recover, only for it to be stolen by some ninja. We wanted to question the nobleman, but Kim had to be at her cousin's house that day. I didn't know that she had our computer genius send a hologram of her with me to his place, which was on the other side of an ocean."

"It turned out that the nobleman was the ninja who had stole the statue, and that he already had three other ones. Together, the four could charge someone up with the MMP...and he had already used them. He had also spent his family fortune to give himself monkey hands and feet, and he had spent years training in Tai Shing Pek Kwar. He was an insane man, but one that could kill a person in a heartbeat. He attacked us and that's when I found out that I was with a hologram, so I was all alone, hours from any help, and with a martial arts master who wanted to kill me because I had learned his secret. There was only one way for me to survive."

Weiss looked at him, both curious and concerned. He had obviously survived, as he was here now, but what could have been so terrible?

"I hated monkeys back then," he murmured. "I had had some bad experiences and I was scared to death of them. The whole sitch was so wrong...monkey temple, monkey statues, monkey powers and now a man who had made himself part monkey, who was trying to kill me by using Monkey Kung-Fu. The only way for me to survive was by going even more monkey. I made my way to the room where he had left the statues, and I let them charge me up with Mystical Monkey Power. They charged up Rufus, as well."

"I still wasn't a match for Fiske," Ron admitted. "But I could do what I did best; distract. I fought him as best I could and since I wasn't fighting to win, just to take up his time, I managed to hold out for a few minutes before he had me pinned down and ready to finish me off. It was enough time for Rufus to get into position."

"Rufus started to knock the statues off of their pedestals and Fiske had to catch them or see them shatter. He had one in each hand, one in a foot, and one in his mouth when I came up and hit him with a cheap shot that knocked him out and destroyed the statues. The statues were gone, so nobody else would ever be charged up with MMP again. I thought it was over, I was wrong."

"For the next year, every once in awhile the MMP would flare up and I would suddenly be agile, strong and skilled. I didn't have any control over it, it just showed up when it felt like it. I also started to run into monkeys; one was on a space station, a bunch were with Fiske when he tried to get to the space station...and I mistook one for Kim."

"You mistook a monkey for your girlfriend?" Weiss couldn't keep the smirk off of her face, despite the serious nature of the conversation.

"She wasn't my girlfriend then!" He protested.

"And she still became your girlfriend after that?"

"It's a long story," He shook his head. "But back to the monkeys I kept running into. They all seemed to like me. Then this mysterious school, across a different ocean from my home, called me."

"They made it all seem so honorable," he shook his head, bitterly. "I was the chosen one, the one who was destined to wield the Lotus Blade and the Mystical Monkey Power, but I must keep it a secret. I was young and dumb, so I bought into it all without questioning anything. I tangled with Fiske a couple of times after that, and usually came out on top. I even saved my world and my girlfriend from an alien invasion."

"So what was so bad about this?" Weiss asked him. "It seems that the power helped you do good things."

"It did," he nodded. "But I was its pawn the entire time, sort of like the suit it wore while nudging events the way it intended. I just wish it could have told me that I didn't have a choice; that it would take me to where it needed me to be and have me do what it needed me to do, no matter what it cost me...or those around me. And now I find out that it's going to affect things on Remnant."

"That's good for humans and faunus, isn't it?"

"It's good for the world," Ron answered. "And it's good for the people living on the world...but it's not good for individual people." He shook his head. "Weiss, when I was teamed with Kim, it was never us saving the world; it was Kim saving the world and me having her back while she did it. On those times when she couldn't make it and I went, it wasn't me saving the world, it was me taking her place to save the world."

"There's an old saying," Weiss told him. "A soldier doesn't fight because he hates what's in front of him. He fights because he loves what's behind him."

"I don't love societies or cultures," Ron told her. "I don't love nations or ideals. I love certain people and I don't think that the MMP works that way; it protects species." He took another deep breath. "In a way, having my aura activated means that I won't have to worry about that...and I don't know if that makes me a bad person."

"I don't understand," Weiss admitted.

"I'm not going to be the Ultimate Monkey Master," he answered, then flinched. "Does it sound as stupid to you as it does to me?"

"It's different," she admitted. "But what do you mean?"

"I mean that my aura blocks certain parts of that power," he answered. "So I'm pretty sure that this means someone else will come along, without an active aura, and take the title." He chuckled bitterly. "I'm glad that I won't have the responsibility any more, so does that make me a bad person that I'm glad that someone else gets stuck with it?"

"You've already saved one world," Weiss pointed out. "So maybe it's time to let someone else take up the burden." She lowered her eyes a little shyly. "While you live a normal life."

"And there we get to the next problem," he sighed. "I don't know how I'm supposed to train the next person...or people...to get charged up with the MMP. On Earth, there were four jade statues that could charge someone up and there was that mysterious school the guarded the Lotus Blade. I don't know if I'm supposed to build some secret school on some mountaintop, if I'm supposed to carve statues or something else. I don't even know how to get the MMP to someone else, maybe I have to die for someone else to get it."

"Somewhat like the Maiden Powers," Weiss mused.

"And...that's where this gets hard," Ron told her. "I...I think we could be more than friends to each other."

"Oh, you think?" Weiss now looked angry with him. "We've admitted that we're attracted to each other and we nearly went through with the act back in Mistral!"

"Okay, but what happens if we take that step and the MMP drags me off to some naco-forsaken corner of this planet?" He jumped to his feet, his response just as angry as hers, but he quickly regained control of his temper. "I'm just not wired that way. I don't make friends very easily, so I really cherish the friends I have. If I were to get into a...romantic relationship...only to get torn away again...I don't know what I'd do."

"Do you think I enjoy the idea?" Weiss was now on her feet, as well. "Do you think I like the idea of really opening up to someone only to see him pulled away while I'm stuck here, running the company for the good of all Atlas? I'm the same way, I don't like thinking of Remnant and Atlas; I like supporting my friends and the others who are special to me. But I can see something that you can't."

Ron looked at her, curiously.

"We only have this one life," she told him. "So why not take the chance to be happy, even if we know it might not last?" She shook her head. "You've lost Kim, but can you honestly tell me that if you had the ability to go back in time, to make sure that the two of you were friends, but nothing more, would you do it?"

"No." His voice was harsh with emotion, but honest and without hesitation.

"So why turn your back on what we could be?" She drew a shuddering breath. "You could get manipulated out of my life tomorrow, just like I could fall to a White Fang assassin, or some warrior for justice who realizes that the Schnees are the problem in the world. Either of us could take a wrong dodge when fighting a grimm or a bandit. Even if none of this happens, we might not work out, but does that mean we shouldn't take the chance? Isn't just the chance that we might make it work worth the heartache if it doesn't?"

Ron didn't answer, at least not verbally. Instead, he walked a couple of steps away and bowed his head.

"Ron?" She asked. Then, he held out his hands, the room seemed to dim slightly, and he was holding a sword.

* * *

Weiss' question had staggered him, forcing him to remember the talk with Yang. He still loved Kim...probably always would...but would it be fair to her to refuse to let go? Would it be fair to those still on Earth who were special to him? Would it be fair to Weiss?

Would it be fair to himself?

 _A chapter in your life has ended, accept this and turn the page! Remember the past chapter fondly, but do not seek to relive it!_

 _Just remember that the longer you delay, the greater the chance that something might happen to make both Weiss and Kim hurt even more._

 _"I love you and I miss you, KP."_ He thought. " _I'll miss you until the day I die. Because I love you, I have to do this. Goodbye, KP. Goodbye mom, dad, Hana, Felix, Monique and Wade. Goodbye Earth._ "

It was the right thing to do, even if it would hurt. He held out his hand and called the blade. This time, he fully, truly called for it, knowing the cost. He felt the familiar hilt in his hand and opened the eyes he didn't recall closing. He didn't recall stepping away from Weiss, but he must have.

Was he sad? Angry? Proud? Relieved?

Why couldn't he be all of them at the same time?

"Did you just..." Weiss wasn't able to finish the question. His emotions still in turmoil, Ron decided to change the blade's form to something more suitable for a sitting room.

He snorted at himself, both in disgust and in humor, when the only shape he could come up with was a Snowman Hank snow-globe.

"It was time...past time...for me to make the change," he answered her, setting the ridiculous trinket on a side-table. "I'm never going back to Earth. It's time to quit pretending that I will."

A tear slipped from one eye, and he wiped it away with an angry swipe. How would his crying about finally letting go of Earth make Weiss feel?

"Ron, it's okay," Weiss' hand rested on his arm. "You've just cut your last tie, of course you're sad."

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"Don't be," she insisted. "It can't be easy to move on like this. I know it sounds trite, but if there's anything I can do to help..."

"I know," he rallied a little. "Do you know a good craftsman? I think it's time I had some sort of a gun mounted in my second tonfa. It's time to start acting like a proper huntsman."

"We'll do some research tomorrow," she assured him.

"Weiss..." he took a deep breath. "I know that your mother is planning a reception for when Flynt and Neon get back. When she does...can I be your escort for the evening?"

"It's customary for the hostess to request this of the gentleman," Weiss told him.

"Sorry," he apologized. "On Earth..."

"But I was going to ask you, anyway," she interrupted. "This lets me know that you will say yes." She hesitated a moment. "Welcome to Remnant."

Tears started to flow again, but this time, Weiss reached up to wipe one away. "It's nothing to be ashamed of," she assured him again. He looked to her, their faces oh so close, and he found himself leaning down towards her.

This kiss had none of the desperate hunger of the one they had shared back in Mistral; none of the demand to fill the emotional hurt with something...anything...else. There was still guilt, and there would be for some time, but mostly there was the feel of a lithe form, that was so much stronger than it had any right to be, in his arms. Her hands rested on the sides of his face, holding him close, letting him know that she wanted him.

That he was worth being wanted.

When the kiss was finished, she leaned forward and rested her head against his chest. For a time, he simply held her.

"I was lonely when I woke your aura," she whispered, and he could feel her warm breath through his shirt. "My sister was off on some secret mission, my mother was an alcoholic, my father a tyrant who wanted to cage me, and my brother was his little sycophant."

"I'm not so lonely anymore," she told him. "My sister is proud of me, my mother is back and my brother might become a brother again; but I still want you with me."

"For as long as we can," he promised.

There was dampness on his shirt, telling him that this was an emotional event for her, as well. Not knowing what to do, he simply held her. After a time, she rallied herself, wiping her eyes before raising her head.

"I have an idea," she told him. When he didn't interrupt, she continued. "Before, I suggested that the two of us travel Remnant so you can see the different cultures and lifestyles on this world."

He nodded.

"Let's do this slightly differently," she suggested. "I want to attend Beacon Academy when it is ready to re-open. In the meantime, I want to help defend Atlas and run my company. Stay with me, defend this Kingdom, and attend classes at the Academy. When Beacon is open again, come with me and attend classes at Beacon."

"How is that different than Atlas?" He wondered.

"Vale, and Beacon, are more cosmopolitan," she told him. "Beacon welcomes students from all over Remnant. Come with me to Beacon and get to know people from around the world and complete your huntsman's training. Your aura interferes with your Mystical Monkey Power, so master your aura, under the tutelage of experts."

"That sounds like a good idea," he admitted. Somewhere, deep inside, he swore the MMP approved, as well.

"After that, we can form our own team," she continued. "Even if it's just the two of us. We'll go to wherever our skills are needed the most, serving Remnant. You'll get the chance to see the world as a wandering huntsman, see the upper classes and the slums. You'll see the villages between the kingdoms, the capital cities and the outlying towns. And during that time, you'll be able to decide how to address your responsibilities with the Mystical Monkey Power."

"I like that," he agreed. "And even if things don't work out. Even if it turns out that we're better as friends than as romantic partners or if our responsibilities won't let us stay together.."

"At least we've tried," she finished for him. "At least we'll have the memories."

Again, they just stood there for a time, holding each other. Finally, Weiss disengaged herself and took her hands in his.

"It's been a long day," she told him. "And the course isn't going to be any easier tomorrow. Let's call it a night and take this up tomorrow."

"I agree," he nodded. He released one of her hands and picked up the snow-globe.

"You know, that thing looks ridiculous," she commented.

"Hey, no dissing on Snowman Hank," he countered. "The last time that happened, I got shot out of orbit in a garbage pod and landed in the Arctic."

"That's so bizarre that it has to be true."

"It is," he assured her, as the two left the sitting room. "You see, there used to be shows every Christmas about him, but one year, they canceled it. It was also the year that I decided to give KP a holiday with the family as a present, so I went out to stop Drakken..."

* * *

Epilogue 1, The Schnee Mansion.

Ron pulled another glass of water off of a servers' tray and found a semi-hidden niche. He understood that answering questions would help in the long run, but he was getting tired of this. He took a long drink, relishing the feeling of the icy liquid soothing his irritated throat.

"You've go the look of someone who could use a break from the gig."

Recognizing the voice, Ron finished his beverage. "Tell me about it," he whispered.

Flynt grinned at him. "You knew folks would be asking you questions."

"Yeah," Ron nodded, still whispering to save his vocal chords. "But how many times do I have to tell people that my ears are considered large, even on Earth, before more people will quit asking me?"

"That's the problem when you come up with a good tune," the combat musician told him. "No mater how many times you play it, there's always someone at the gig who wants to hear it again. Just be glad this is at a reception; the folks here at least try to be polite."

"Yeah, but it was supposed to be a reception welcoming you and Neon back as much as presenting me as an alien," Ron countered. "I don't see the two of you being grilled all that much."

"And that's just the way I like it," Flynt gave Ron a grin that was absolutely smug.

"But seriously, I haven't had much of a chance to talk with you since you got back," Ron offered him a bit of a hard look, but not much. "How did it go?"

"Tiring," Flynt told him. "I'm lucky that Madame Schnee didn't insist that we have the reception the night we got back." He thought for a few moments. "We could handle any of the battles, it was facing one after another that really dragged us flat. That and having to live without the infrastructure." He shook his head. "I always looked at the upper class here and thought I had it rough, then I spent some time between the kingdoms and realized that I had it pretty good, y'know."

"I get the idea," Ron assured him. "Back on Earth, I sometimes had to go what we called the third world every once in awhile. When you're used to having a 'stop-and-rob' nearby, it can be hard when one isn't around."

"Stop-and-rob?" Flynt asked.

"Twenty-four hour convenience store," Ron explained. "I won't go into the name."

"I won't press it," Flynt grinned at him. "But I thought that the grind as a student was rough; classes, training, sparring and inspections. Then I had to do it for real, being on alert day after day when nothing happened, but you still had to put in the all-nighters because you didn't know when the grimm or the bad guys were going to show up...and that lasted week after week. Life ain't a sprint, it's a marathon."

"Did it get better when the Mistral Students started to show up?"

"A lot," Flynt nodded. "We were able to spread out the watch more and actually take the time to keep ourselves going. I saw the footage of you and Weiss fighting in Kuchinashi. That looked tense."

"It was as harsh as I'd ever like to see," Ron agreed.

"And your semblance sent you back to Earth, where you got roughed up?" Flynt shook his head. "We're all gonna have to have a sit down and talk as soon as we can."

"Agreed, but not here."

"No argument," Flynt assured him. "By the way, I've heard that you have a rodent friend from Earth running around here. I've never met him."

"He's keeping low," Ron told his friend. "He knows that the folks here might not be exactly happy to see him, and he's a little nervous around Neon."

"Better safe than sorry," Flynt chuckled, while looking out to where his partner was dancing with Whitley. "What's with Weiss' little brother? Weiss always acted like he was a sour note, but he seems pretty chill."

"He's had a rough time," Ron told him. "When you have two older sisters like Winter and Weiss, it's kind of easy to get overshadowed. Weiss is trying to treat him like a brother and not a rival and he seems to be coming around."

"Seems to be?" Flynt asked.

"Better safe than sorry," Ron told him.

"There you are!" Yang announced, finding the two. "The two of you are pretty good at getting out of sight when you feel like it."

"Not everyone can be a head turner," Ron pointed out.

"True," she smirked at him. "And it never gets old. But Einsam would like to have a word with you and Weiss."

"Oh, just the heroes from Kuchinashi?" Flynt asked, but his smile took away any hint that he was offended.

"For now," Yang told him. "You, on the other hand, have another mission. I don't have a partner for this dance."

Ron set his empty glass on a nearby table and smiled as Yang hauled the only slightly resisting (and that for comedic effect) Flynt onto the dance floor. With a slight sigh, Ron left the marginal shelter of his refuge and made his way towards the grand staircase. As he feared, once he was clearly in sight of the Schnees' neighbors, business associates and other peers who made up the attendees, the greetings and questions started all over again. However, he only had to exchange a few words with each person, as he was able to truthfully claim that the generous hostess wished to speak to him.

Nobody wanted to delay someone whom Einsam Schnee had summoned.

On the upper level, and just to one side of the grand staircase, a small dais, holding two chairs and a small table, was built into the balcony. Einsam used this as a refuge whenever she hosted events; should she become weary, she would retreat here and observe her guests. Only those whom she had specifically welcomed were accepted here, so she could have a short reprieve, or a somewhat private conversation, whenever she wished. Ron didn't know if this arrangement was unique to the Schnees, typical of the Atlesian upper classes, or something that was universal on Remnant, but since the guests never questioned it, he didn't either.

The matron was seated in this dais now and easily spotted him as he made his way through the guests and towards the stairway. He had lived in the mansion long enough to note her discreet look of approval as he struggled to balance politeness to the guests with a prompt response to her summons. Upon reaching the stairs, he had to consciously subdue the urge to scamper up the stairs and force himself to adopt a casual stride. He smiled a bit at that; suspecting that no matter how old he grew, he would always be the little boy answering a teacher, coach or a parent.

"I understand you wished to speak to me," he announced himself before stepping into her semi-private space.

"Of course, Ronald, please be seated."

How she could make a slight gesture towards the other chair so regal, Ron would never know. However, the instruction was unmistakable, so he planted himself on the indicated piece of furniture. The chairs were not at opposite sides of the table, allowing the occupants to look directly at each other. Instead, they were arranged so that the occupants could look out over the ballroom while turning slightly to face each other.

"Weiss should be here shortly," Einsam told him. "Much as you, she is facing intense curiosity and proper manners do not allow her to simply barge through my guests to speak to me."

"At least your guests are polite about the questions," Ron told her.

"You have undoubtedly read some colorful speculation made on line," Einsam smiled at the young man's shock. "I may be aging, Mr. Stoppable, but I'm still amused at how certain people express their curiosity."

"I'm just annoyed that some people are more interested in...certain details about me...than I am," Ron confessed.

"The anonymity of being on line, or part of an unorganized crowd, encourages a certain boldness," Einsam offered, with a smile. "As a Schnee, I have been subjected to this for most of my life. When you are among peers, such as my guests now are, much of this anonymity is removed, so the more crass inquiries are suppressed. However, once more wine flows, the questions could become more personal and prying. Ah! There's my daughter."

Ron followed her gaze (she was far to polite to point) and spotted the younger Schnee woman making her way, gracefully, through the guests. Much as him, she spoke to several people on the way before reaching the staircase and ascending it with a great deal more grace and decorum than he had managed. As a gentleman, he rose when she approached.

"You're much more of a guest here than I am," Weiss told him, once she greeted her mother. "So please, you sit."

Ron was a little confused. While some acts of chivalry were different between Remnant and Earth, it was still considered rude for a gentleman to remain seated while a lady stood. Still, he settled back onto the chair, then felt her arm slide around his neck and her hand rest on his shoulder. She was not a tall person, so she was perfectly comfortable standing next to him and leaning against him. While Ron enjoyed the feeling, he was a little nervous.

Since summoning the Lotus Blade to Remnant two weeks ago, he and Weiss had grown closer. There was a lot of hand holding, occasional kissing and even some cuddling in the evenings. He considered her his girlfriend and knew that she considered him her boyfriend. However, even with the media frenzy dying down a little, they were careful to show their affections only in private.

Until now.

"I would like to speak to you about your plans for the future," Einsam addressed the two, although Ron swore a small smile flickered across her face. "Weiss, please tell me why you chose to surrender the leadership of your team to Mr. Coal."

"He's a much better team leader than I am," Weiss told her. "Between his greater experience and the fact that he can focus on the leadership role while I am focusing upon my role as the CEO of the company, it is better for the team."

"Mr. Stoppable?" Einsam looked at the young man.

"She's right," Ron confirmed. "Weiss has to spend so much time as a CEO that she doesn't have the time to come up with new tactics and research new grimm. Flynt is really good at that, he keeps running us through drills outside of classes, making us more of a team."

"It isn't easy to accept your own limitations," Einsam nodded. "It is a mark of maturity and sensibility to realize that someone else has either the expertise, the experience, or even the time needed to perform a task better than you. You have learned to delegate, daughter, and I am pleased to hear this."

"I understand that Beacon Academy may attempt to re-open in a few more weeks," the matron continued. "Even with the campus overrun by grimm, they will hold their classes in a series of warehouses and other buildings within Vale. The three of you have expressed your interest in attending, and I will not stop you. I will miss you, but you've returned Whitley to me and set up a board of directors that I can trust. It seems cruel to have only regained my family, only to see my daughters go their own ways."

"Perhaps I can delay my re-enrollment," Weiss suggested. "If you'd rather..."

"No!" Einsam firmly halted her daughter's suggestion. "You are growing up, much like your sister, and it is time for you to find your own way in the world, even if you will always be welcome here. I will not have this home become your prison."

"It is time for me to rejoin my guests," Einsam announced, rising to her feet. This prompted Ron to do so, as well. "Mr. Stoppable, you have been a wonderful companion for my daughter. You have my blessing to solicit her affection."

The older woman walked by the young couple, but paused to poke at the top of Ron's head.

"But before you leave for Vale, I will do something about that cowlick."

Ron watched Einsam descend the staircase...with a great deal more decorum and grace than he had ascended it...before turning to Weiss.

"Solicit your affection?" He asked.

"It means she wants the two of us to date," Weiss told him. "Seriously."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously," she confirmed.

"That sounds so wrong coming from someone who isn't wearing a mullet," he grumbled.

"A what?"

"Very long story," he sighed. "But she wants the two of us dating?"

"As in exclusively, and towards making something permanent."

"That puts me in a rough place," Ron told her. "How am I supposed to date the girl who has everything?"

"What makes you think I'm interested in dating you?" She demanded.

"I have your mother's permission!"

"You have my mother's permission," Weiss sniffed. "But that doesn't mean you have my approval! Why do you think I want to?"

"You admitted to your publicist that you're attracted to me."

"Okay, that's a point," she admitted, turning to face him directly.

"You've asked me to come along with you to Beacon," he pointed out.

"That's another point," she now took a step towards him.

"How about the kisses over the last couple of weeks?"

"They make a strong argument in your favor," she nodded, and reached out to take his hands in her own.

"Finally, there was the fact that you were leaning against me, where all of your guests could see," Ron concluded. "And we're standing in a fairly romantic pose in the same place."

"Very well, I'm convinced," she smiled at him.

"So now that we know that you want to date me," Ron asked. "How do I go about it?"

"Well, we could start with a little non-verbal indication to the Schnee peers."

Smiling now, Ron leaned towards her, noting her own smile as she lifted herself onto her toes...

Only for a familiar and usually welcome squeak to interrupt the moment.

"Rufus?" Ron asked, looking around and spotting a familiar pink form behind a furnace grill on the floor.

"How did he get in there?" Weiss demanded.

"Air vents, they're the hidden highways," Ron told her. "What do you need, buddy?"

The mole rat answered with a series of squeaks and chitters that Weiss couldn't follow, but were apparently a functional language to Ron. The young man's eyes flew wide and one hand rose to cover his face.

"Buddy, we'll talk about this after the party," he sighed. As the hidden rodent slipped away from the opening and into the depths of the Schnee heating system, Ron looked towards Weiss. "I'm going to have to make some arrangements before we leave for Beacon."

"What is it?" She asked. "Is there something wrong with the rats?"

"Wrong...no..." he murmured. "In fact, it's pretty much right. I guess you should congratulate me; I'm going to be an uncle in a couple more weeks."

* * *

"Come here, Fiske."

Somehow, Fiske knew that something was wrong and that he was causing Salem disquiet of sorts...even if he didn't know what he had done. There was a momentary thought of fleeing...but that would be disobeying his queen. He couldn't do that. He rushed through the citadel to her council chamber, where he found her seated at the head of the table, with a very large man seated to her right. Fiske hurried to her side, where he knelt before her.

"Rise," she commanded. "Fiske, this is one of my most trusted servants, Hazel." A pale hand described an imperious gesture towards the man.

"An honor," Fiske offered a shallow bow, which the man returned with a nod.

"As your body becomes more attuned with your soul, memories and past alliances shall return to you," Salem reminded him. "Let me see this symbol that is appearing on your left hand."

Nervous, but not willing to displease the queen, Fiske extended his hand. Both Salem and Hazel contemplated the back of his palm.

"It has gained more definition," Salem observed. "Perhaps a humanoid form sitting in a meditative stance. Have any memories associated with it surfaced?"

"Forgive me, Your Grace, but what could be a name," Fiske told her. "Yo-ho, or Yo-pro...maybe even Yugo...I cannot recall."

Salem merely fixed him with a piercing eye for several minutes, during which Fiske found himself whimpering and squirming at his inability to please her.

"Fiske is incapable of lying to me," she finally addressed Hazel. "His memories will return in time, but that schedule is one that I do not know. Show him the image."

"As you wish," the big man's voice, although quiet, seemed to make the very stones shake. He produced a small device...which Fiske had learned was called a scroll...and pressed a control with his massive finger. An image appeared over the table, which had Fiske hissing in irritation even though he didn't know why.

"Interesting," Salem nodded, as Fiske continued to glare at the picture of a young, blonde man standing with a petite, platinum-haired girl. "What can you tell me of those who you see here?"

"He is an impostor!" Fiske spat. "He has...something...that he has not earned, that is rightfully mine!"

"And what is this?" Salem's question was gentle, yet implacable.

"I...do not know..." Fiske admitted. "A power...a strength..."

"It will return to you, in time," she informed him. "What about the girl?"

"She's...wrong," Fiske told her. "She should be taller and have red hair. I...I don't know how I know this."

"Another mystery that will be solved. Fiske, tell me what you see here."

In response, Hazel pressed another control and the image was replaced with a chaotic recording. It seemed to be a battle scene, with whomever was recording the action incapable of keeping the recording device stable. Suddenly, the jolting movements stopped and focused on the young man, the pretender. As Fiske watched, snarling, the dolt was seized by a large grimm...a goliath. Yet, the impostor held off the goliath's trunk with one arm, caught its foot with the other hand, then shoved the monstrous creature back. It was only then that Fiske noted that a petite girl, perhaps the one from the earlier image, was pinned by ruble behind the boy.

"How is this possible?" Salem asked him, her gentle voice irresistible. "Even a hyperstrength semblance wouldn't allow such a feat."

"It's the power," Fiske told her. "The power that he cheated me of! The power that is rightfully mine!"

"And you do not have this strength." Her tone of disappointment hurt him worse than any beating could.

Fiske could only hang his head in shame.

"We must increase the intensity of your development," Salem told him, then turned to the other man in the room. "Hazel, this task will be yours."

"As you wish."

Again, the deep voice seemed to make the stone recoil. Vast muscles in his huge arms crawled under his skin, promising a truly unpleasant encounter.

In response, and just for a moment, Fiske's eyes glowed yellow.

* * *

 _A/N:_

 _Well folks, that's it for another tale. I don't know when I'll get around to moving forward in this story arc, but I want everyone to know that I've appreciated every review and PM that has come my way._

 _As always, HUGE thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for his beta reading._

 _Until next we meet, my best wishes to everyone._

 _daccu65._


End file.
